


Curio

by Deck Divination (astralpath)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Art, Humor, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralpath/pseuds/Deck%20Divination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happy with his friends yet still a little bored with his life, Atem buys a painting at a curio shop on a whim. There's something a little weird about that shop, that proprietor, and especially that painting …</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unaccountable Extravagance

**Author's Note:**

> At last I am to the end of my re-posting with this, one of the best-received stories I've posted on Fanfiction. It was originally posted between 2/16 and 6/12/2013. I anticipate that changes will be minor with the exception of changes to citations. For this story, be aware of the following
> 
> _**WARNINGS:**_
> 
> 1) Some profanity throughout.
> 
> 2) You might experience some OOC, but I have some (semi-reasonable) excuses for that, I promise! ;)
> 
> 3) Egregious use of lyrical quotations. If you don't like them, feel free to skip over them. ;)

_All I want is 20-20 vision,_  
 _A total portrait with no omissions,_  
 _All I want is a vision of you._  
~ “Picture This,” Blondie

“Why this shop?” Atem asked Anzu. He was a little annoyed, frankly. It seemed as though Anzu was dragging him into every little curio and antique shop in Old Town. He’d agreed to go on this outing with her because they were friends and it seemed like they’d done nothing but shop. Anzu hadn’t really talked to him about anything he was interested in at all. By now he was completely bored by all the costume jewelry, cute china, knickknacks, and assorted clothing that the shops had to offer. “I’m getting hungry. Can’t we go to lunch now?”

“But this was the shop that Shizuka liked the best! Come on, Atem, it’ll be fun!” Anzu grabbed his hand and pulled him into the store, her other hand clutching the several bags that contained her purchases.

Atem sighed. _Why didn’t you ask Shizuka to come with you today?_ he wondered, looking around. She would actually enjoy the shopping trip. He could feel his eyes glaze over as he was confronted with yet another array of antiques.

_Good god._

Anzu quickly disappeared around a display case stuffed to the brim with assorted jewelry, leaving Atem alone to ponder his fate. He wondered if there might be any antique games lying about … preferably without missing pieces.

“Is there anything in particular that would suit your interest, sir?” said a voice behind him.

“Excuse me?”

Atem turned. The man was bizarre, to say the least. He was effete, his long, platinum hair carefully cut and styled so that it concealed one eye. Atem was sure there was something a little off about that eye, but he couldn’t quite make it out. Not only that, he wore a magenta suit of velvet— _velvet!_

“I try to select items for every taste, sir,” the man continued, pretending he didn’t notice Atem’s stares. The odd thing was, Atem felt as though the proprietor was staring at him as well … no, make that _through_ him. The man put out a hand. “Pegasus J Crawford,” he said. “Call me Pegasus.”

 _The Pegasus Selection_ … that’s right. That’s what this place was.

Atem reluctantly shook the offered hand. It was slightly limp.

“No, don’t tell me!” the man said. “Let me guess.” He smiled and looked Atem up and down. “I pride myself on my ability to read people. I want to suggest the perfect item for you. You don’t need a gift for anyone right now … but you’re looking … yes. I have just the thing! This way.”

Atem sighed. Oh well, I might as well humor the man. It’s more entertaining than looking around myself, at least, he thought. As he followed Pegasus he looked around, wondering where Anzu had gotten.

The store seemed much bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. Just how far back did it go, anyway? And there was merchandise on at least two upper floors as well. It was as though a short walk through a store was becoming a trek through a jungle … if a jungle could be filled with cast-off junk instead of trees. Atem followed Pegasus up a stairway and opened his mouth to ask what his square footage was, when it caught his eye and he stopped stock still.

“I thought you would like that,” said Pegasus a little smugly. Before him, leaning on a large chair, sat a large portrait of a man in a simple frame. It couldn’t be of a real person because the man was dressed as a pharaoh, his large headdress low over his eyes.

And what eyes they were! Filled with intelligence, they were of a dark blue that Atem hadn’t believed was possible—could this simply be the artist’s license? Or perhaps he did not paint his model from life, but this man existed merely in his imagination. How could they be made of mere pigment on canvas when they pierced him so?

Tearing his attention from the man’s eyes, Atem stepped closer to examine the man’s face in more detail. Careful brushstrokes revealed a handsome face with high cheekbones and a clean, strong jawline. His brow was effectively hidden by the headdress and his expression regal and guarded.

He appeared to be standing on some sort of balcony, with a view of the Nile and ruins of some sort behind him. You could see down to where his hand lay on the stone railing of the balcony, just above where the portrait cut off around the level of his hip.

His clothing was ostentatious, mostly turquoise, opulently embellished with gold. The tones contrasted with the dark, sun-kissed bronze of his skin.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?”

Atem nearly jumped out of his skin. Mesmerized by the sight of the man in the painting, he’d completely forgotten that the proprietor of the shop was standing right behind him.

 _Shit_ , he thought. _I’m never going to get a good price for this now_. Attempting to sound nonchalant, he said, “What are you asking for this?” He looked closely. “It appears to be unsigned. Do you know who the artist is?”

“Sadly, no, the artist is, apparently, anonymous, and I haven’t been able to identify who it could have been from the technique. None of my gallery friends have identified it, either.”

“Then, you—”

“No, I have no information about the model, if there was one.”

Atem frowned a little. How could this man read him so easily? Wasn’t that supposed to be his own strength? How annoying it was to have the shoe on the other foot!

As if catching Atem’s thought, Pegasus chuckled. “Weren’t we talking price? Ordinarily, I wouldn’t accept less than 450,000 yen for this. For you, however, I’ll make a special deal. Shall we say … half price?”

Atem turned to face Pegasus, confounded.

_Why is he so keen to sell? Surely he saw! There’s no way I’m going to walk out without it, even for that ridiculous price! Unsigned, unknown artist, unknown model … there’s no knowing how valuable it might be, but he knows he’s got me on the hook._

Pegasus shrugged. “Forget it,” he said. “Let’s just say you caught me in a giving mood and leave it at that?”

“Fine,” Atem said, almost angrily. He was almost sure he’d regret the purchase later, half-price or not. He leaned forward.

“Here, let me,” offered Pegasus, lifting the painting. “I’ll set this aside and have it wrapped and delivered for you. Just leave your address at the counter. That way you won’t have to lug it with you for the remainder of the day.”

“That will actually work out best for me. Thank you.”

The two threaded their way back down to the front of the store.

“Atem! Where have you been all this time?” Anzu exclaimed.

“I kind of got lost in the back there,” he said. He was afraid he might be blushing a little, but if Anzu noticed, she didn’t show any sign of it.

Instead, she giggled. “This shop is incredible! I could stay here all day!—But I won’t,” she added quickly, before Atem could begin to voice the groan he felt coming on. She placed several odds and ends on the counter and said to Pegasus, “Are you the shop owner? There are several pieces of jewelry I’d like to see, if I could—”

“Most certainly, my dear, but first I have to check out your friend here.”

Anzu turned to stare at Atem. “You’re buying something?” she asked incredulously.

“I do have money,” he said. “I spend some every now and then.”

“On non-gaming items?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t laugh!” He turned to the counter and settled with Pegasus.

Anzu couldn’t stop staring. After she made her purchases, she latched onto Atem’s arm and fairly hustled him from the shop. “Over 200,000 yen? What did you buy that could possibly cost so much?!”

“A painting—and I’m regretting it already,” he claimed.

“A painting? What of … and why? I never knew that you were an art connoisseur, Atem!”

“It …” Why exactly had he needed to buy it so badly? He wasn’t exactly sure, really, but it had something to do with those eyes—he was almost sure of it. He laughed. “You know? I’m not exactly sure why I got it, but I have that blank space near the stairs—you know it—I think it would fit perfectly.”

“It better for that price. Funny, I never pegged you as an impulse buyer.”

“Me neither … but let’s go spend some money on lunch. I’m starved.”

“Let me treat. You’re broke after that.”

“The way you’ve been shopping?”

“You blew your budget on one purchase, Atem!”

He sighed. “Don’t remind me.”

Anzu grabbed his hand, pointing toward a restaurant and skipping toward it. “Let’s eat there!” she cried enthusiastically.

Atem chuckled at her excess and stumbled after her.

Author’s notes ...

[Here's some of the original notes carried over for whatever reason] I’m actually working a 5D’s story (and a different, heavier DM story) as well, but this story interrupted all that, and I really want to go ahead and start posting it! (I’m really addicted to posting and I hate it when I don’t have anything in progress!) I haven’t completely finished up, but I’ve gotten to the point that I’m pretty certain that I won’t want to come back and change the beginning, so here goes nothing! Hope you like it!

If you haven’t noticed, I’m warning you, this will be a fairly lightweight entry, although there will be a little angsty goodness sprinkled in here and there. [It actually turned out a little heavier than I'd anticipated.] On with the notes:

_Old Town_ : I believe many cities have an “old town” district where the older buildings have been renovated and turned into shops and such. In San Diego (and, I believe, in other cities) it’s actually called _Old Town_.

_450,000_ _yen_ : $5000, more or less (less, as of the original posting).


	2. Presence

 

_I’ve been looking so long at these pictures of you_  
 _That I almost believe that they’re real_  
~ “Pictures of You,” The Cure

Atem opened his mailbox and saw the note. It had arrived.

He sighed.

He wasn’t sure he hadn’t made a mistake in buying the painting. “Half price” or not, it was a lot for him to spend, especially on a non-essential, decorative item. But it was a little late for regrets now.

He walked slowly to the super’s office and knocked on the door. “You have a package for me?”

“Yes … you need help with this? Hanging it or anything?”

“No, I can handle it.”

“Mind your deposit now. You damage the walls, you pay.”

“It should be fine. You said it was OK to use Monster hooks?”

“Yeah, just be careful.”

 _Just be careful. Right_. He frowned slightly, looking at the size of the painting. He wasn’t exactly a big guy and getting it up to his apartment wasn’t going to be the easiest thing. Maybe he was a little too hasty saying he didn’t need help. Him and his damn pride. He crouched down and carefully got a grip on the thing.

“Sure you don’t need any help?”

“Sure I’m sure.” _Stupid pride …_

Somehow he managed to balance the thing all the way to the elevator and got it up to the seventh floor and into #746. He was slightly amazed he didn’t bang it into anything on the way.

Once he got it safely into his apartment, he felt excitement bubbling up inside of him.

 _What the hell_ is _this?_

It was weird, as though he’d been hiding his anticipation even from himself. Weirder, the sensation was bizarrely like the anticipation of meeting a real person. No wonder he didn’t want anyone else to see his emotion. It was so _embarrassing_.

“I think we’re alone now,” he whispered to the package, then chuckled to himself at the conceit. “I know you’re only a painting and you can’t hear me,” he continued, amused by his own silliness, “but do you mind if we talk?” His smile faded a little. “I have so many friends, but there are still some things that I want to talk about and—” Shit, now he was feeling stupider and stupider, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Confiding in a painting? A painting of a pharaoh?

Pathetic.

“—and I can’t talk to any of my friends about them. But I think I can talk to you.” He sighed. “I know. It’s unfair. You can’t talk back, you can’t refuse if you don’t want to listen, and I can’t listen to any of your problems, but …”

Was this why he bought him?

No. He tore the paper completely away. He bought him because he was beautiful and had that intelligent, piercing gaze. Atem could say whatever he wanted, sure, but if he tried to fool himself that face would look back at him and say, _Don’t give me that bullshit!_

“What’s your name?” Atem asked.

The painted image said nothing.

“Figures. I took you for the tall, silent type.”

He picked up the painting and positioned it in the area near the stairs that he’d picked out. It was perfect … except …

He moved on up the stairs into the loft and over into his bedroom. There. That’s where it should be, on the wall adjacent to the window. The sun wouldn’t fade it there, and he could see it easily from his bed. He felt a compelling need to be able to talk to the image in the privacy of his room. Leaving it alone next to the stairway just seemed …

Wrong.

At that moment the doorbell rang. “See you later,” he told the image and bounded down the stairs.

He opened the door to find Jounouchi standing there. “Jou? What are you—?”

“We’re going gaming today, Atem, have you forgotten? What’s this?” He picked up the discarded wrappings.

“Sorry, Jou, I received a package and got distracted.”

“A package? Is it a new game? Lemme see!”

“It’s not a game, Jou.”

“What in the heck would you be getting that you’d forget we’re going out gaming, then?” he asked.

“It’s just a picture.”

“A picture? With all these wrappings? Can I see?”

Atem sighed. Jounouchi just wasn’t going to let him alone until he saw his new acquisition. “It’s up here,” he said, leading the way.

Jounouchi stood in front of the picture for a minute, then said, “Awfully big, isn’t it?”

“Well, I’d planned to put it in the main room next to the stairs—”

“That would be the perfect place!”

“—but I changed my mind.”

“Why would you do that? Seriously, Atem, how are you gonna sleep with this mook staring down at’cha all night long?”

_Mook?_

Ignoring that, Atem said, “It’s a little big, sure, but what’s so wrong with it?”

“He looks … judgmental … or something.”

“I guess he _is_ rather intense,” Atem allowed. Glancing at the painting, the expression seemed more intense—and now, for some reason, judgmental—than ever.

“I know you’re really into ancient Egypt and all, but …” Jounouchi stopped for a minute. “Is this because you imagine you were a pharaoh in a former life? You—you don’t think you looked … like _him_ , do you?!”

Atem burst out laughing. He practically fell onto the bed, he was laughing so hard. “Good one, Jou!” he exclaimed, slapping his thigh.

“I didn’t think it was that funny,” he said, scratching his head. “I mean, who says you have to have looked anything like you look now? But, yeah, he doesn’t seem much like you, does he?”

Atem grabbed Jounouchi by his t-shirt to keep from falling over, and said, “So can we get going now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Seriously, you gonna move that thing downstairs or what?”

* * *

The two went to their favorite arcade, the Magician’s Triple Dragon. As they walked in, Jounouchi asked, “Why is it the Magician’s Triple Dragon, Atem? Why not just the Magician’s Dragon, or the Magician’s Double Dragon?”

“I don’t know, Jou, because three is a lucky number? Why don’t you ask the owner?”

“Maybe I will!”

“Maybe you should.”

The two laughed as they headed toward one of Atem’s favorite games, Egyptian Plagues. The game started out with the biblical plagues of Egypt and then moved on to monsters and other interesting things. Jounouchi had a very high score, but Atem ruled.

“Look at this!” Jounouchi burst out. “Someone beat your score!”

“Wait—what? Impossible.” Atem walked over.

“See? K, A, I. That’s not you, right? I wonder what that stands for?”

Atem stared at the letters, frowning. He never would have believed that someone could beat his score. At any game he was really serious about, but especially this one. “I have to beat this,” he murmured.

Jounouchi smiled. “The game’s afoot!” he cried.

“Aren’t you going to go off and play Demon Basketball?”

“Not yet. I want to see you beat KAI.”

“This might take a while.”

“No problem.”

In fact, it did take a while to build up a huge score like that, but he did it … finally. By that time both of them had an enormous appetite.

“Sure you don’t want to play Demon Basketball?” Atem asked Jounouchi.

“On an empty stomach? Are you kidding me?” They started walking out of the arcade.

“Are you sure?” Atem teased as they walked by the machine. “It’s right—” Atem frowned, catching sight of it. “You’re kidding!” He stepped up and took a closer look, just to make sure.

“What’s the problem now?”

“Look at the high score.”

“Last I looked, I had—KAI?!” Jounouchi scowled, incensed. “First Egyptian Plagues, now Demon Basketball?”

“That’s just too coincidental,” said Atem. “Wait a sec before we go eat.” He looked at a random machine. “KAI again! And … again! Did he …?”

Looking at several random machines, it seemed that the mysterious KAI had registered the high score for many of the games at the arcade.

“I wonder if these are networked or if he came here in person and methodically went through to ace all these games?” Atem murmured.

“Who cares? Who does he think he is trying to wipe everyone else off the map at every single game?!”

“Hm … maybe he has a lot of time on his hands and gets bored. … And loves games.” Atem put his hands in his pockets and started walking along the sidewalk toward their favorite hamburger joint.

He smiled at himself as he walked slowly, waiting for Jounouchi to catch up.

“Wait up, Atem!”

“Why do you think I was walking so slowly? Besides, you know where we’re going. Hey, is Mai going to meet you tonight?”

“Not tonight. She’s got a late shift dealing at the casino.”

“She’s got such a good job and meets such rich guys. She could date anyone. Tell me again how you scored such a cool girl?”

Jounouchi beamed. “It’s ’cause I’m such a totally cool guy, Atem. Same as you got Anzu to date you!”

“We’re not dating.”

“Hell you’re not! Didn’t you have a date just the other day?”

“To Old Town? Are you crazy? That was just a shopping trip. I have no idea why she dragged me along instead of Shizuka unless it was to have me carry her parcels.”

“It was because it … was … a … _date_ ,” Jounouchi drawled out, emphasizing each word. “Oh, is that when you got that weird picture? Anzu must have gotten a laugh out of that!”

“She hasn’t seen it yet.”

“Move it before you show it to her. She’ll think it’s weird that you put it in your bedroom, take it from me.”

“You think?” A furrow appeared in his brow.

“I know. You really need to move it. If you don’t believe me, ask Honda … or better yet, ask Shizuka.”

“Your sister?”

“It’s a girl’s opinion.”

“Ah.”

* * *

Atem had a good time with Jounouchi, but was really glad to get home that evening. As soon as he locked the door and took his shoes off, he raced up to his room and closed the door.

Sitting on his bed, he turned toward the painting.

 _I really need to get special lights for that_ , he thought. _The bed lamp doesn’t do it justice_.

He took a good look at the face again. What exactly was it that drew him so? Sure, it was a handsome face, and the guy … damn if he wasn’t exactly his type, but still, Atem wasn’t the sort to go overboard over physical appearance.

“I’m not really that shallow, am I?” he murmured, startling himself in the silence of the room.

No, there was something about the thing. There was definitely something about those eyes. They were so much more realistic than eyes in a normal painting.

Atem found himself leaning forward, trying to figure out specifically what it was about those eyes that drew him in.

But it wasn’t only that. The man in the painting almost seemed to have a presence like a real person. Yes, it definitely felt as though there were another person in the room.

Atem closed his eyes and held his breath for a moment trying to put his finger on the sensation. His eyes flew open wide and he stared at the man. “Who the hell painted you? Seriously.”

There was no way around it. The reason that he wanted to have this painting so badly was that he felt the presence of the man it depicted and it was someone he desperately wanted to know.

_Shit._

“Do you mind if I talk to you?” he asked. “I really need to talk to someone.”

The intense blue gaze didn’t change, but he took it as _no, he didn’t mind,_ anyway.

“Yeah, I know I have lots of friends to talk to, but … sometimes I just …”

He stopped. This was stupid, but if he couldn’t even talk about it to nobody, then who could he confide in? He laughed softly at himself, feeling silly, and forced himself to go on. “Sometimes I just can’t talk about what I need to. You don’t mind if I confide in you, do you?”

He waited. “I thought not. You remember Jounouchi? You met him earlier tonight. Loud, yeah, but a really nice guy? I know, you don’t like him, but I promise, he really is a good guy, so please bear with him. For my sake? OK, anyway, he told me that when I went shopping with Anzu it was a date. Do you think it was a date? Do you think she thought it was a date? You do?”

He almost thought he saw a glimmer in the dark blue eyes. He made himself blink repeatedly. He had to be mistaken.

“Geez, you do!” He sighed. “What’s wrong with me? I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. There’s no way that I’m going to be her boyfriend.”

He stared at the painting. _Yeah_ …

“You know why already, don’t you? My friends are all clueless. They have no idea, but you … you’re beautiful, and brilliant, and …” Just looking into those eyes, he just _knew_ the man was everything he wanted. If only the man could step right out of that painting or he could step into it and—

 _God, that’s pathetic!_ Atem told himself. _In actuality, the model for this is probably as dumb as a rock. The pretty ones always are, aren’t they?_ _Anything beyond that was just his wishful thinking. It had to be._

Atem sighed. “Sorry …” He closed his eyes. It was a confession, but there was no way that it this guy was going to pass it along. Who was he telling, really? “You already know, don’t you? I’m gay. There. I said it.”

It was weird. He hadn’t really told anyone—not even his cousin Yugi—and yet he still felt relieved somehow, as though he’d gotten a load off of his chest.

“Yeah, I hear you. If I can tell you, I should be able to tell my friends.”

He stopped again. “If I’m going to talk your painted ear off, what do I call you, anyway? Dude? Pharaoh-guy? Nah, that won’t do at all. Huh. Maybe … Harry. OK, Harry?” Harry didn’t really fit him at all, but it was sort of arbitrary and random. A placeholder.

“You know what else happened tonight, Harry?” Atem chucked at the name—it really didn’t fit the elegant personage in the portrait. “When we were at the arcade, we discovered that some guy had set new top scores for a lot of the games! He put in the initials KAI. Jou was ticked off!” Atem chuckled again, remembering. “I bet you would have loved that.”

Atem paused for a second, trying to imagine some clever comment that Harry might say.

“Yeah, he was really bent out of shape about it. I bet you could have beaten him at Demon Basketball yourself, though.” He paused. “I’d like to meet this mysterious KAI. I’ll bet he’s an interesting guy, and he’s a gamer, so we have at least one thing in common.

“I wonder. Do you like games?”

He looked into the deep blue and imagined hard. The pharaoh had to have said _yes_.

Atem laughed at himself, yawning, then looked over at the clock.

“Damn, it’s getting late. Good night, Harry.”

**Author’s notes ...**

_mook_ : Rather archaic slang, but it seemed so funny, I didn’t want to change it. I must watch too many old movies ...

_KAI_ : If this sequence seems familiar, it should. It’s inspired by the manga version. ;)

_Harry_ : I was originally planning on Joe, but Jou/Joe: no. Don’t you agree? So, Harry. I know you’d really hate it, so sorry about that, Kaiba!


	3. Your Move

_From this time unchained,_  
 _We’re all looking at a different picture,_  
 _Through this new frame of mind_  
~ “Glory Box,” Portishead

Atem awoke to the sensation of the morning light falling across his face. He groaned. Had he really stayed up so late? Yawning, he rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. He had the strangest sensation of someone staring at him.

“Harry?” he mumbled, frowning slightly and looking toward the painting. He could have sworn that the pharaoh was observing him with a slightly amused expression, his arms crossed—

Wait. His arms _crossed?_ Atem could have sworn that he had one hand on the railing before.

“Am I going crazy?” he muttered. He got up from the bed and walked slowly toward the painting. _It’s not as though he’s going to move_ , Atem told himself with some irritation.

That was definitely amusement in Harry’s eyes. With difficulty, Atem suppressed a growl. Wait, did that amused sparkle in his eyes just increase? “Damn you, Harry …”

Atem grabbed his cell phone from the bureau and snapped a picture. “Now if you move, I’ll know for sure whether it’s my imagination or not,” he said. After a moment, he added “So there.”

He felt incredibly immature, but strangely satisfied, as though he were playing a really stupid game with a brand new friend. “What, am I five?” he muttered.

The phone in his hand vibrated, nearly causing him to drop it, then emitted a jazzy ringtone. “Damn, I really need to change that,” he said, and brought the phone to his lips. “Hello?”

It was Anzu. “Hi Atem. Do you have plans for today?”

Atem glanced at the painting and sighed. Not like he could take that guy to the beach. “No, what do you have in mind?”

“Terrific. Let’s go to the beach.”

“Funny, the beach just crossed my mind for some reason.”

“Then that sounds like a plan?”

“I guess so …” He thought a moment about what Jounouchi said last night. “Why don’t I call up Jou and Honda and see if they want to come? You think Shizuka might be free?”

“I was … Yeah, that would be great.”

“Terrific!” He glanced at the clock. “I’ll pick you up at nine, OK?”

Quickly he tapped through to Jounouchi’s number and made his first call.

Jounouchi was more than happy to come. “You haven’t invited Yugi, have you?” he asked.

“No, it’s his turn to cover the store, but why do you ask like that?”

“Well, because you and Anzu … can you say, awkward?”

“Sheesh, Jou, we’re not dating! Yugi doesn’t seem to have trouble understanding that … although … he hasn’t wanted to come along with the group lately …”

“Like I said: awkward.”

That conversation gave Atem too much to think about while he was showering. Really, could Anzu have the wrong idea about him? He’d always figured she and Yugi would figure it out and get together sooner or later. But nothing he could do about those two. Should he come out to Anzu?

Damn it, he really didn’t feel like doing that until he had a proper boyfriend. It would be a lot easier to tell everyone if he was, well, happier about all of that.

Yeah, well, it wasn’t like he never got offers, but, dammit, he had his standards.

When Atem got out of the shower and was dressing, he glanced at the portrait, which still seemed somehow amused. For some reason, Jounouchi’s comments from the night before sprang to his mind. “This isn’t a date,” he told the image, “it’s an outing with my friends.”

_You made sure of that, didn’t you?_

“Yes I did. I don’t want Anzu to get the wrong idea.”

_Because it’s not as if she doesn’t have her hopes up already. I haven’t even met her and I already know what she’s thinking._

“Not you too!” Atem growled at the painting, frustrated. “Dammit, Harry, now you have me arguing with myself! I should turn you toward the wall.”

The amused expression in those piercing blue eyes was infuriating. _But I know you’re not going to_.

“What am I doing even talking to you, anyway?” he muttered. “I _am_ going crazy.” Grabbing his swim trunks and beach towel, he stormed out of his room.

* * *

The day was perfect for the beach: Sunny and warm with a nice sea breeze. Jounouchi and, surprisingly, Mai were both able to make it, as were Shizuka, Honda, and Bakura. When Honda heard Shizuka was coming, he traded shifts.

Atem waded out of the surf and sat on his beach towel in the shade of Anzu’s beach umbrella. Anzu plopped down next to him and gave him a big smile. “Isn’t today perfect?” she asked. She opened her lunch basket and handed him a sandwich.

“It is beautiful,” he allowed. He gazed out toward the ocean. The only thing that would improve the view—no, he shouldn’t think about that. But he couldn’t help himself. The man from the painting would look magnificent as part of this view. He could picture him so easily, his dark skin against the white sand. Atem tried to remember the exact shade of the man’s eyes. Was it even darker than the blue of the ocean? _I think_ —

“… tonight?”

“Huh?” said Atem ungracefully, breaking out of his reverie. “I’m sorry, Anzu, I was woolgathering.”

Anzu looked at him, an odd expression on her face. “You’ve been distracted all day,” she said. “Has something gone wrong at the game shop?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. What was it you were saying?”

“Nothing important. I just wanted to know if you’d like to take a walk along the strand this evening and maybe—maybe have dinner at the Star of the Sea?”

“Sure,” he said with a smile.

“So if there’s nothing wrong, then what’s on your mind?”

What could he say? That he needed to find himself a boyfriend and the best he could do is a painting that couldn’t even hold up its end of the conversation decently? Pathetic. “Nothing much, I guess it’s just spring fever.”

Immediately he was sorry he said that. _Crap! Why hadn’t I thought to bring up KAI?_ he thought belatedly. _That would have been a perfect excuse._

“You know, there are treatments for that,” Anzu said flirtatiously, and leaned in close.

Atem suppressed a groan. “I guess so,” he said. He glanced over at Jounouchi and Mai reflexively, thinking what a natural couple they were. _Why can’t I just be like that?_

As though Atem had caught his attention, Jounouchi got up and helped Mai to her feet, then they both came over. “Looks like it’s time for lunch,” Jounouchi said.

“What is it with you?” asked Anzu. “You always seem to just know when food appears. Is it ESP?”

“No,” said Mai, “survival of the fittest.” She gave him a fond hug. “I can attest that he’s very fit.”

“Please spare us the details,” said Atem.

“So, have you seen Atem’s new pitcher yet?” asked Jounouchi.

“Pitcher?” echoed Anzu. “Oh! Picture. You mean the painting he got at Pegasus’ shop.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, I haven’t been to Atem’s place since he got it. Say, why don’t we stop by on the way home?”

“Well, for one thing, I picked you up,” Atem pointed out. “How about some other time? I’ll be bushed by the time we’re coming home.”

“I guess, but I’d really like to see what you’d like enough to pay that much for.”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it,” said Jounouchi. “It’s just some dude.”

“‘Some du—’?”

“Hardly!” Atem broke in. “It’s an artist’s depiction of a pharaoh.”

“I see,” said Anzu. “Jou, you know how Atem is about ancient Egypt.”

Jounouchi shrugged. “Yeah, but that doesn’t explain why he has to put it in his bedroom.”

“B-bedroom? Didn’t you say you bought it because it would fit that space next to the stairs perfectly?”

_Drat that perfect memory!_ Atem thought. “I did, but I changed my mind,” he said in what he hoped was a breezy manner.

“If y’ask me, it’s a just little bit creepy,” Jounouchi said between bites of a sandwich.

“Aw, c’mon,” said Mai, observing Atem’s discomfort, “give a guy a break. It can’t be that bad.”

“You haven’t seen how big that paintin’ is, and the dude has eyes like a freakin’ interrogator. How can you even sleep with that starin’ at you all night?”

_Interrogator? Jou even knows that word?_

Atem couldn’t help laughing. “When you put it that way … But honestly, Jou, having it there is actually kind of … comforting.”

“That?” Jounouchi shrugged. “Different strokes for different folks, I guess,” he said. “I suppose if a burglar stumbled in, it might scare him away. But, honestly, Anzu, y’gotta see it.”

“One of these times. Anything that would get Atem to buy a picture, let alone one that expensive, has to be interesting in some way.”

“I don’t see why you all are so fascinated by my purchasing habits,” growled Atem, annoyed. “Can’t we just have a nice lunch without dissecting my décor in detail?”

* * *

The remainder of the day passed all too quickly. The group happily played some beach volleyball, splashed about in the waves, then capped it off by watching the sun set and going to dinner.

It was late when Atem finally climbed the stairs up to his loft, yawning. He turned on the light and pulled his shirt off, throwing a glance at the painting before heading into the bathroom.

He stopped in mid-stride, turned and stared, slack-jawed, at the painting.

The pharaoh was gazing out toward the right side of the painting, revealing his handsome profile, one hand back on the railing of the balcony.

“Holy fuck,” muttered Atem as he rummaged in his pocket for his cell phone, unable to tear his eyes from the sight.

When his hand finally grasped the cell, he pulled it out and wrenched his eyes away. Clicking back through the day’s snaps of the beach, he found his snap of the painting. “Ha!” he exclaimed. “See? Your arms … are … crossed …”

Looking up, though, he saw that the pharaoh was back in a position identical to that of the morning, the very same expression of amusement in his eyes—only perhaps more so. “You bastard,” Atem commented, but he knew it was his own fault. He should have snapped another photo before looking up the first one.

He could almost hear the man chuckling at him.

“Laugh it up, Harry,” he muttered. “Have your fun while it lasts. You know, I could sell you. Or put you in my fireplace.”

_Like you’d do that._

“I suppose I wouldn’t. Who would I talk to?”

_Speaking of, where were you? It’s Sunday._

“I do have a life you know. I was out with my friends.”

_Friends?_ Was it his imagination, or did the image look a little surprised? _What do you need me for if you have so many friends that you’re out all day?_

“I told you. There’s things I can’t talk with them about.”

_You’re a coward._

“Yeah, I know. I should trust them enough to talk about this, but … it’s so personal, and I know that Anzu’s going to be, well, disappointed.”

_She’s going to be disappointed eventually anyway._

“I guess I’m hoping she’ll get bored with me, or find someone else.” Atem stared at the painting for a moment and frowned. “Stop laughing!”

He stomped off into the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

_This can’t be healthy,_ he thought. _Talking to a painting._

That wasn’t the worst thing, though. He was feeling a definite attraction. That was just sad.

_I really need to seek help._

* * *

The next few days Atem hid his cell phone under his pillow, waiting for an opportunity to catch a change in position that never seemed to manifest. Then he started taking a picture of the painting whenever he entered the room and when he woke up. He supposed that if there was a sort of consciousness in the painting that didn’t want to be caught, this was absolutely not the way he was going to catch it, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

One evening, he got home after closing the game shop and after snapping a picture of the painting, found himself staring at it. The man still stood with arms crossed, his face basically impassive, but he felt that there was something somehow different about the expression this evening.

_How is it?_ Atem wondered. _How is it that I detect nearly imperceptible changes in your expression? He shook his head. But perhaps they aren’t changes at all. Perhaps I’m making all this up in my mind._

He looked at the portrait again, unable to shake the feeling that the expression—yes, it had shaded over from hinting at amusement to some more complex emotion. Atem prided himself on his ability to read expressions and this one was difficult even for him, subtle and hidden as it was. There was some frustration there, he was certain, and a smidgen of anger, but also … yes, he was sure of it, something softer.

Just as Atem thought he was beginning to comprehend what the emotion might be, he heard his doorbell and trotted downstairs feeling distracted.

“It’s late, Yugi.”

“I want to see your new picture.”

“What is it with that? Everyone wants to see it now.”

“What can I say, your place is like a museum,” Yugi said, smiling. He ran up the steps to the loft and flopped onto Atem’s bed. “I’m going to stay overnight. Don’t worry about it.” He stared at the portrait for a while, then laughed. “I can see why you like this so much,” he said.

“Huh?”

Yugi laughed even more at the reaction, then cleared his throat and said, “It’s very nice and ties in with your fascination with everything ancient Egyptian. Do you know how accurate the costume is?”

“No idea.”

“You should channel your former incarnation and figure it out.”

“Very funny. And fashions change, you know.”

“Oh, be technical, why don’t you? But seriously, Atem, this fellow reminds me of someone, but I can’t remember who.”

“It’s the eyes. They’re so human.”

“That’s not it. It’s someone I should recognize.”

Before Atem could refute that, the bell rang, and he went down to answer the door.

_At least I don’t have to listen to Yugi make fun of me for the next couple of minutes._

He glanced through the peephole and almost groaned. Then he opened the door and said, “Hello, Anzu. Don’t you think it’s a little late to come visiting?”

“Well, I wanted to stop by and see that painting of yours and I knew you wouldn’t be back from work until late. So?”

“Well, I guess it’s fine. I don’t know why everyone’s so interested. Yugi’s already up there.” He leaned on the bannister and called, “Yugi? You decent?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Anzu’s coming up.”

Atem could almost feel the tension increase and almost laughed as they ascended the stairs. Oh well, this will resolve itself eventually, he thought.

Anzu sat next to Yugi on the bed, which Atem thought was particularly awkward, but her attention was focused on the painting. “It’s … big,” she said.

“That it is.”

“You said you were going to put it in the space next to the stairs?”

“Originally.”

“It really fits better there.”

“H—It didn’t seem to want to go there.”

Anzu looked at him curiously, then glanced at the painting. “It didn’t?” she murmured. “But, really, why put it up here, anyway?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Yugi, and for a moment, Atem was terrified that Yugi would say, _He’s gorgeous!_ But fortunately, he said, “He’s a pharaoh. Atem likes to think about that.”

“He can’t think about that in his living room?” Anzu murmured, looking at the painting.

“You just don’t understand,” Yugi said. “It’s a thing. Atem doesn’t keep his favorite books about Egypt in the living room either.”

Atem glanced at his bookshelf. Indeed, there were a number of books about ancient civilizations and ancient Egypt in particular, and also a couple of adventure novels and manga series set in ancient Egypt.

“Some people put up posters of rock stars,” continued Yugi comfortably, “Atem puts up pictures of pharaohs … although, you really can’t have an actual _photograph_ of a pharaoh …”

“I guess …” said Anzu. “I’d sort of expect a poster of Tutankhamun’s death mask …”

“Too predictable,” said Atem.

The trio went downstairs to drink tea and chat about Atem’s interest in ancient Egypt.

* * *

The next morning when Atem woke up, he reached beneath his pillow for his cellphone and as his fingers closed around it he heard a soft moan. His eyes flew open, and then, just as suddenly, he relaxed.

For a split second, he imagined that the breathy sound had come from the painting, but then he remembered that Yugi was staying over and turned over. Yes, his diminutive cousin was sharing the bed with him. Yugi let out another sleep-smeared sigh and stretched, opening his large, violet eyes and looking at his cousin.

“Oh, are you already awake?”

“Barely. Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Go ahead and take the first shower. I’ll boil water for tea.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, slipping out of bed and trailing slowly over to the bathroom.

As soon as Atem heard the water, he surreptitiously slid his cell phone out from beneath his pillow, and quickly snapped a picture of the painting before he even looked at it. Then he looked at the picture he’d taken. It was blurry, but … yes … the arm was on the railing. He was almost sure of it. (OK, it was _very_ blurry.)

“Gotcha!” he exclaimed, pointing at the painting.

The image, its arms crossed again, seemed to say, _Make_ that _photo stand up in a court of law_.

“What?” Yugi called from the bathroom.

“Nothing! Stubbed my toe!” he called back. Looking back at the painting, he whispered, “I don’t care, I know what’s going on and you can’t convince me otherwise. You’re moving! I know you are!” He realized he’d somehow jumped up during all this and was now standing near the bed. He sat down on it now, thinking. “Wait a minute,” he whispered.

_If I’m not crazy, isn’t that even worse than if I am?_ After all, that meant that the figure in the painting was actually moving. That sort of thing wasn’t supposed to be possible in a rational world. It had to be some sort of magic, right?

“Great, Harry, now I’m supposed to convince my friends that you move around? I wonder … should I show these to Yugi?”

_Your choice. Personally, I wouldn’t recommend it._

“Yeah, good advice. You know, I think I have a better idea.” Atem grinned. “I think it’s about time I figured out where you came from anyway, don’t you?”

_I’d do that myself in your place._

“Yeah, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You wouldn’t care to tell me, though, would you?”

_I move, I don’t talk._

“I guess that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”

_I’m a painting, not a recording._

Atem stared at the painting for a moment. He hadn’t considered that before. He’d love to hear the voice that would emanate from that personage. He stood still for a moment trying to imagine it.

_What?_

The image seemed to stare at him expectantly.

“I need to get going, Harry.” Atem headed downstairs, muttering, “Moving or not, I’m still carrying on conversations with with a painting of a man who can’t talk back! It’s pathological!”

**Author’s notes ...**

Things have been developing slowly so far, but will speed up (hopefully not too quickly) in the next chapter.

_Atem’s new pitcher_ : I realize that the play on words (pitcher/picture) is strictly English, but hey ... ( **Note:** when I originally wrote this, the rather ribald pun that can be read into this did not cross my mind - honest!)

_Stop laughing!_ : My feeling is that Seto would probably not be laughing, but Atem feels like he’s being laughed at.


	4. Probing

 

_Will I know your name or recognize your face;_  
 _Or by what means I’ll be delivered from this place?_  
~ “The Scent of Magnolia,” David Sylvian

Atem felt bad about it, but he asked his cousin to please cover for him at the game shop.

“So what’s the story, Atem?” asked Yugi.

“What do you mean? We cover for each other.”

“You cover for me. When’s the last time you asked for an unscheduled day off?”

Atem looked at Yugi, trying to figure out what to say.

Yugi smiled. “It’s not about that weird painting, is it?”

“N—what makes you say that?”

“You’ve been totally off ever since you got it.”

Atem was beginning to feel annoyed. “Not everything has to be about that painting, you know.”

“But it’s mysterious! I’d think you’d want to find out more about it. It would actually be strange if you didn’t track things down.”

“So why are you making a fuss?”

“I’m not making a fuss. Aren’t you?”

“No! It’s just that everyone’s asking me about it and coming over to look at it and—” Atem paused. This was exactly the sort of deal he didn’t want to be making it out to be. He looked at Yugi, who wore a suspiciously mischievous expression. “Just what are you getting at?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing. Anyway, is there any particular reason that you wanted the day off?”

Atem scowled. With a heavy sigh that was almost a growl, he said, “Fine. If you absolutely must know, it _is_ about the painting. I decided to find out where that painting came from. It’s unsigned and I want to figure out if I can track down the artist and figure out if it’s worth anything.” Muttering, he added nearly inaudibly, “Busybody.”

“What was that? Oh, you should find out who posed for it while you’re at it. I’m sure you’re dying to know.”

“Why would I want to know who posed for it?” Atem lied. Then an uncomfortable thought struck him. “I don’t even know how old that painting is. The guy could be so much older than the man in the painting that talking to him would be just … weird.”

“I just don’t think you’ll be happy until you figure this out,” Yugi said, pulling out a stack of inventory forms.

“And why is that?”

“I think it’s better if you told me, Atem,” Yugi said. “It’s not like we both don’t know, and you know I’m not going to criticize you for it.” He looked at Atem expectantly for a moment, but when Atem didn’t answer, he said, “Anyway, why don’t you get out of here and do whatever it is you need to do with your day? The sooner you do that, the sooner you can get back and tell me all about your exciting adventures.”

“Sure. Thanks for covering, Yugi.” Atem walked out, wondering why it was so difficult to come out to Yugi. He seemed to know everything already, so what was it?

* * *

The Pegasus Selection seemed at once both exactly the same and completely different. It contained the same sort of eclectic selection of antiques and odd items, but the arrangement and actual items seemed to be completely different than it had been the last time he was there. What was the same, however, was that the proprietor was nowhere to be seen.

Atem looked about with irritation. He was a little hesitant to muck about the place lest he become lost somewhere in that warren of junk.

Looking at the counter, however, he spotted a desk bell and struck it. When he turned around, he was surprised to find Pegasus standing right behind him.

“You rang?” The man looked as insufferably full of wicked amusement as ever. “Do you want to buy something new, or is this about the painting you bought the other week?”

“You remember that?”

“I never forget a customer.”

“How—?”

Pegasus shrugged. “There’s just a certain aura around people and the items in this store. They combine so that it’s just—unmistakeable. So … that painting.”

Atem sighed. It was no use lying or beating around the bush. This was what he came for after all.

Without waiting for an answer, Pegasus said, “I told you that I had no information about either the artist or the model already.”

“But you did get it somehow, didn’t you?”

“Indeed I did, indeed I did. I suppose I can give you the name of the family that I bought it from. But I must ask you to respect their privacy. Please approach them with care and please don’t be blunt! I’d like to do business with them in the future!” A slight frown creased Pegasus’ brow as he pulled out a business card and scribbled contact information on the back. “I really shouldn’t do this at all,” he muttered, handing the card to Atem. “This entire situation …”

“The situation? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man said in an almost insulted tone. “Just—”

“I won’t let you down. I’ll be very careful! If it works out, I’ll come back and buy something very expensive, I promise!”

“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about,” Pegasus said in such an exaggerated manner that Atem couldn’t help but think that he knew a lot more about that painting than he’d ever said, artist, model, and all.

* * *

Once back in his tiny car, Atem pulled the card out of his wallet and took a look. Isis Ishtar, he read.

_Well, no time like the present. Let’s see what this previous owner is like._

The address wasn’t far away at all. In fact, it was still in the picturesque area of Old Town.

_Oh, shit._

_Isis Ishtar_   
_Psychic Medium_   
_Divination_   
_Counseling_

The décor was distinctly Egyptian.

Atem wanted to turn right around and go home, but … _If I turn back now, I’ll always wonder if I could have tracked down where that painting came from. Let’s face it. I want to know who he is and why that damn thing moves. Is it haunted?_

_Fuck it._

He forced himself to walk in. _I hope I don’t have to make a damned appointment_ , he thought viciously. _I’m not sure I can make myself come back_.

He stood in the entry room uncertainly.

“Please relax, sir,” said a warm feminine voice. “I have no appointments right now, so I can see you right away. In fact, I was expecting someone to drop in at this time, so I made sure to keep this hour open.”

“You …” _Oh, please!_

It wasn’t just the fact that the appointment was conveniently open, it was that the woman, this Isis, had the same darkly tan skin with the same golden sheen as the figure in his painting. Her eyes, too, were a bright, deep blue, although not quite as dark as that man. Atem might imagine that she was related to him in some way. Perhaps it was the intelligence and intensity of those eyes, although the gaze was disconcerting in a different way. No, she seemed to look through him with a strange perception and honesty that was disturbingly disarming.

“I can see that you are skeptical,” she said.

“Because you’re psychic?”

“Not at all. Anyone could see that you’re skeptical. Please tell me your name.”

“You can’t tell me my name?”

“Seers can’t see everything, sir. Besides, certain things are hidden, and for some reason, your name seems to be one of those things that’s particularly difficult to get at.”

“Hm …” he said. _As if_. “My name is Atem. Motou Atem.”

“You don’t mind if I call you Atem, do you? It makes for a better rapport. Meanwhile, please call me Isis.”

“All right, Isis. But I’m not here for a reading.”

“Are you sure about that? I think you might find a reading beneficial.” She lowered her gaze and voice and said, “If it would make you feel better, I wouldn’t mind doing it somewhere more private. It seems to me that you’ve had some unusual experiences lately.”

_And whose fault is that?_ he wanted to say, but settled for, “Yes, but actually, I wanted to talk to you about an item that you sold to a fellow shop owner in the vicinity.”

“The painting? Ah, yes, that’s a very unusual item. I was sorry to let it go.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, why did you let it go, then?”

“It didn’t want to stay with me any longer.”

“Didn’t want—what are you talking about? It’s a painting.”

Isis smiled. “It’s a very special painting. I think you already know that. But please come into my parlor. It won’t do to simply stand out here talking. Most uncomfortable. Please let me offer you some tea.”

Atem followed her into a room with a large circular table of dark wood and sat in a comfortable chair facing it. There were several more chairs against the walls, which were covered with hangings of sumptuous fabric and various portraits. The floor was covered by Persian rugs. The entire room was filled with a subtle glow from several hanging and standing lamps, lending it the feeling of existing apart from the bright bustle of the city street just outside.

But the weirdest thing about the room was that Atem had the distinct impression that he was being watched.

Just as Atem was looking for the source of that disquieting sensation, Isis arrived with a silver tea set. She poured two cups of tea and offered Atem a type of almond cookie. It was so amazingly good, he took another. He was annoyed with himself for feeling so at home.

Sipping green tea, he glanced around at the paintings, realizing those were the cause of his weird sensation. All of the paintings were remarkably realistic and had the same bizarre quality of presence that his own painting had. Among them were a man with hieroglyphics drawn directly on his face, a very handsome boy with strange lilac-colored eyes, and—oddly, he thought—Pegasus Crawford himself.

Atem nearly choked on a bite of almond cookie. “You have a portrait of Pegasus?”

“He’s a very good friend.”

“You’re not—”

“Oh, dear no. He’s gay.” Isis said that so straightforwardly that Atem was taken completely by surprise.

“Are all of these done by the same artist?”

“You’re asking whether these were done by the same artist that painted your picture, are you not?”

“Well, yes, in a roundabout way.” He glanced around again, frowning. “Are _any_ of these signed?”

Isis smiled again. “Yes, the same artist painted all of these, and signed none of them. He’s very busy with other aspects of his life and doesn’t want to be known for his art.”

“That Pegasus, what a liar! He said he didn’t know who painted my portrait!”

Isis smiled. “He’s just avoiding telling you. _Technically_ , he doesn’t know for certain. The painting wasn’t signed, you see, and he wasn’t there when it was painted.”

_Avoiding?_ Atem wondered why Pegasus shifted the issue to Isis, but decided not to ask directly. “The artist is quite good,” he said. “Are all of these done from life?”

“You’re asking whether there’s a model for your painting. Again, the answer is yes. That painting is connected to a living young man.”

“Whom you’ve met?”

“Yes, I have, and I believe he wouldn’t mind my telling you that he was even more reluctant to walk into my establishment than you were. It was his brother who convinced him. In fact, it was his brother who convinced him to pose for the portrait. It was done for charity.”

_Charity?_ Odd as it was, it made a lot of sense to Atem.

“Are you sure you don’t want a reading?” Isis asked, looking at Atem curiously. “I’m sure you’d find it fascinating.”

“Uhn, not today, thanks. So, you say you know the model? Can you introduce me? I would—”

“I am sorry, but this man is truly difficult to approach. Although he’s a businessman, unless you have legitimate business with him, it isn’t wise to—”

“So you refuse to—”

“I’d like to give you his name, but if he knew that I gave his information out freely, it would be bad all around, for the both of us, believe me. He’s very stubborn and it’s my opinion that he would be unwilling to listen to anything you had to say.”

“In that case, can you give me the name of the artist? You say he’s shy. Would it be possible to contact him?”

Isis sighed. “He is a little more amenable, but … I warn you, approach him with care. The man who painted these portraits might be shy, but he’s very powerful. He works behind the scenes. You won’t recognize his name, but his accomplishments affect the lives of everyone around him.” She frowned. “In fact, I often wonder whether I should have done a reading for—” she suddenly stopped, realizing she was about to slip up.

“What are you saying?”

She hesitated, then finally said, “This man wanted a reading for the man in the painting.”

“A—and this was a problem?” Atem asked, trying to understand. “How—?”

“I’ve already said too much,” Isis said as though this explained everything.

Atem’s brow knitted as he tried to figure out what was going through Isis’ mind. There was obviously more to this situation than she was saying. He glanced around. Who were these people? Did these paintings move? Were they of people who were important to her? His frown deepened. Was the changeability of these paintings their only weird property?

“Let me ask you this,” he said carefully, “this man, this artist, is he dangerous?” How strange it was to feel worry for a man he did not know from another man he did not know whose potential menace he had no good way of judging. It was laughable.

“He’s … not to be trifled with. And the man who posed …” she paused.

Atem was irritated. Why did she refuse to tell him what she knew? He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it on the table in front of Isis. “What can you tell me about this?”

“That’s certainly the painting. One of these photos is pretty blurry …”

“Notice anything unusual? Like, for example, most painted figures don’t move their arms around?”

“Oh, that.”

Atem rolled his eyes. “Most people would consider that bizarre in the extreme, don’t you think? Most people would call for a paranormal investigation.”

“You haven’t.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“I suppose you are. However, I find it intriguing that this isn’t the first aspect of the painting that you inquired about.”

“Never mind me. About the painting?”

“Ah yes, it’s always done that.”

“Can you explain why?” Atem was struggling to keep his irritation out of his voice.

“I think you need to ask the artist about that.”

“And therein lies my problem. I don’t know who the artist is. I don’t know how all this happened.”

Isis sighed. “I’m sorry, Atem. I wish I could be more informative. I’ll do this much. I’ll give you the name of the artist, but, as I said, please be discrete and careful when you approach him.”

“Funny, Pegasus said the same about you.”

“Did he?” she said, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. “I really don’t think I’m all that dangerous. But, perhaps it’s—” She cut herself off again, glancing at the painting of Pegasus, and Atem wondered whether he’d caught an odd expression in her eyes. Handing Atem a slip of paper with a few lines written in a crisp, open script, Isis looked at him in the eye solemnly and said, “If you weren’t formidable yourself, I’d refuse to give you this information at all.”

“You know—” _nothing about me? Oh, yes. She thinks she knows me. She’s a medium_. “Tch.”

“I’m better at this than you think I am, Atem. Be careful. And don’t visit that guy for a couple of days.”

“Why not? Are you planning to warn him? Is that a good idea?”

“Don’t think that he doesn’t expect you already, Atem,” she said.

Atem got up to leave. Isis walked him to the door. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Atem.”

When he stepped out of the shop and reached his car, he turned back around for a last look only to find Isis following him, a few steps behind. “Did you forget something?” he asked.

“We didn’t say a proper goodbye,” she said. She shook his hand, holding it an instant too long and giving him one more of her warm smiles. “Are you absolutely certain that you don’t want a reading? I don’t normally do this, but for you I’d do a private reading, away from the shop. That would be better, actually.”

Atem looked at Isis, wondering what she wasn’t saying. “Would it? Not today, but I promise to think it over. Thank you for this,” he said, waving the slip of paper, “and the tea.” She began to turn to go, but he said, “Wait! What is the real reason that you want me to wait?”

“You’ll see. Something will happen that will make a difference. You won’t want to go there before.”

Well, that was frustratingly uninformative. Atem let it go, and held her there by asking, “You do think that fellow, the man who painted the portraits is dangerous, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes.”

* * *

_Something will happen …_

Well if that wasn’t the stupidest thing he’d ever had suggested to him. Atem thought he should just take the next step and check out this artist guy now, but … he was curious. What if something did happen? And what if going ahead and checking out this guy kept it from happening? It was too ridiculous. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to wait another couple of days to see whether this “something” really did happen or not.

That evening, Atem walked into the Magician’s Triple Dragon with Jounouchi. The two were laughing and joking together amiably. One good thing about looking forward to a little wait: he could relax and try to get his mind off that stupid weird painting for a little while.

Or make that “the weird painting that he was stupid over”?

“I don’t get how you love playing games so much after working at a game shop all day long,” said Jounouchi.

Atem almost laughed, but didn’t want to say that he spent almost the entire day sleuthing.“I guess it is,” he said. The two stopped by the sports games. “So, Jou, going to play Demon Basketball for a while?”

“I think so,” he said, sitting down at the console. Then, “Are you kidding?!”

Atem stepped up. “Don’t tell me,” he said. Sure enough, the top score was again KAI. He chuckled. “This guy is persistent. I can’t wait to see the score for Egyptian Plagues!”

“You don’t mind—”

“Are you kidding? Go right ahead! I’ll be back right after I rack up a high score this KAI character can’t possibly top!” He laughed out loud and headed toward the historical/fantasy section.

For some reason, Atem felt a surge of anticipation as he approached the machine. It had been a while since he’d experienced this level of competition. He wondered why he was so keyed up. Was it that he was worried that KAI might not have surpassed his score? Or had he not returned to Egyptian Plagues at all, only returning to Demon Basketball to top that score?

But wouldn’t that be a good thing? Or … or would it just be disappointing? Why was it important that KAI care at least as much about Egyptian Plagues as Demon Basketball?

Oh.

There was someone sitting at the console playing Egyptian Plagues right then. He couldn’t see much of him from the back. All that he could tell was that he was tall, had impeccably-combed chestnut hair, and wore an expensive-looking purple trench with a voluminous skirt.

A thought struck him. _Could this be the mysterious KAI?_

As he renewed his approach, he suddenly realized that he’d halted and …

Honestly, had he been holding his breath?

_That’s just weird._

Nearing the man, he could see the large hands, simultaneously relaxed and active, manipulating the controls with expert dexterity. Atem stretched on tiptoe to look over his shoulder at the score. He was on a high level—this had to be …

“KAI?” Atem murmured, not realizing he’d spoken out loud.

Startled, the man glanced over his shoulder without thinking to pause the game, causing a sudden sandstorm to ensue, ending it. He then whirled to face Atem, apparently shocked.

Atem nearly fell over. “Holy shit.”

With the exception of his dress and his pale skin, the man looked exactly like the man in his painting.

 

**Author’s notes ...**

A number of folks at this point wondered must how much the portrait is contributing to the conversation, but I had to tell them that they'd have to wait and see. But there’s definitely some sort of communication going on, no? ;)

_The Scent of Magnolia_ : Just a note about the musical reference. This is a rather unusual song that I heard on a small local public station that haunted me for weeks until I could recall enough of the lyrics to hunt it down. I wondered whether I liked it the first time I heard it, then couldn’t forget it.


	5. In Dreams

 

_Now the paint's still wet in your do-it-by-number dream,_  
 _Are you gonna tell me how it felt, will you tell me what it means?_  
“Similar Features” ~ Melissa Etheridge

“KAI?” Atem murmured, not realizing he’d spoken out loud.

Startled, the man glanced over his shoulder without thinking to pause the game, causing a sudden sandstorm to ensue, ending it. He then whirled to face Atem, apparently shocked.

Atem nearly fell over. “Holy shit.”

With the exception of his dress and his pale skin, the man looked exactly like the man in his painting. Most importantly, his eyes were exactly the same: deep midnight blue and intensely piercing. The man was opulently dressed in simple black pants and turtleneck underlying the striking purple trench. However, the man didn’t seem surprised by his reaction at all. A strange atmosphere of uncertainty hung between them. “Uhn, excuse me,” said Atem, embarrassed. “Could we go somewhere to talk for a little while?”

“That’s interesting, I was going to ask you something similar.”

“Oh! I apologize for interrupting your game.”

“My game? I don’t care about that.”

Atem had a sudden thought. “Do you mind if I stop and let my friend know where I’ll be?”

“Go ahead.”

Atem hurried over to the Demon Basketball console, simultaneously taking a breath to try to calm his excitement. He was so overwhelmed with emotion that he couldn’t quite sort them out and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. “Jou, I need to talk to someone for a little while, do you mind?” he said.

“Talk to someone? Who would you—?” Jounouchi paused the game and looked around. “Holy shit! That guy—”

“Exactly. That’s why I want to talk to him, OK?”

“Sure. Go right ahead. I’ll probably still be here. Otherwise, you can call me or meet me at Monster Burger.”

“Thanks, Jou.”

Atem returned to the man, thinking how tall he was, noticeably taller even than Jounouchi. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem. Where would you like to talk?”

“We could go to Monster Burger. I’m meeting Jounouchi—my friend—there later.”

“Monster Burger?” he said with a hint of disappointment.

“You don’t like burgers.”

“It’s not so much that,” the man said in a way that made Atem think that it was exactly that. “It’s just that burgers are my brother’s favorite food. I end up eating a great many more of them than I’d like.”

Atem couldn’t help but think that judging from the man’s physique, he didn’t eat many burgers at all. While those thoughts filtered through Atem’s mind and his tongue stayed frozen to the roof of his mouth, the man continued, “But since you’re meeting your friend there later … I suppose we could go there.”

“Honestly, I should apologize,” Atem said, as they walked the short distance to the eatery. “I don’t usually greet people like that. I just thought …” He couldn’t very well say he sort of recognized him already without going into embarrassing details, so he said, “I haven’t introduced myself have I? I’m sorry. I’m Motou Atem.”

“Motou Atem,” the man echoed. “There’s a Kame Game Shop that’s owned by a Motou family.”

“That’s us,” Atem said, surprised that the man made that association. “I run it with my cousin Yugi.”

“Interesting. I’m Kaiba Seto. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”

“Heard of you? Of course I have! I hadn’t realized that the president of KaibaCorp was so young!” Atem felt a sudden blush imprint his cheeks as he realized he might have insulted his companion. “Oh! I’m terribly sorry—”

“Please. Don’t stand on ceremony. I never do. It wastes time.”

“Kaiba Seto? Then you’re KAI!” Atem blurted, only to find himself blushing anew.

“I suppose so—” They had entered Monster Burger now and a waitress, looking quite intimidated by Kaiba’s presence, seated them and took their orders immediately.

“I’ve never gotten such quick service here,” commented Atem.

“That surprises me. You have an air about you that commands attention.”

“Not like you, I’m sure.”

“Hn.”

Atem took a short second to look his companion over. Imperious, blunt (some might say rude), even arrogant, Jounouchi would probably tell Atem he had a “bad personality.” Looking deeper, he surmised Kaiba was reserved and intelligent, the sort who had many contacts but few friends. Atem suspected he might be a no-nonsense sort of person who would never try to gloss things over or try to make Atem feel better with pretty white lies. Intriguing. Challenging.

“I have something I want to ask you,” he said, “but if I may, why was it that you wanted to talk to me?”

“Oh, yes, well …” Kaiba sighed. “This is actually rather … strange … and doesn’t make much sense to me. I hesitate to talk about it, but if I want to make any sort of sense of it, I think … yes, I need to talk to you about it.”

“OK. Go ahead then. If it helps, I promise it won’t sound any more nonsensical than what I have to talk to you about. In fact, it’s rather a relief to think that I’m not the only one here who has something a little out of the ordinary to discuss.”

Kaiba gave him an appraising look and said, “A little out of the ordinary? This is more bizarre in nature than that.” Those incredible eyes took on a very cool, remote aspect, like the deep, blue, shadowy interior of a glacial crevasse. “Frankly, Atem, I’ll have you know that I’m very pragmatic by nature. I’m not given to flights of fancy. This isn’t exactly easy for me to talk about.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning, then?”

Kaiba sighed, thinking it over just as their order arrived. Again, Atem was struck by the efficiency with which the staff delivered their food. That certainly wouldn’t have happened if he were with Jounouchi. He looked around, wondering whether Kaiba’s status was so completely obvious.

“Very well then,” Kaiba said, finally, obviously ill at ease, but determined to go forward with his story nevertheless. “Mokuba—my brother—talked me into it. We were attending a benefit for one of our favorite charities, Shelter from the Storm.”

“The orphan relief fund?” Atem recalled that Isis had mentioned it was for charity.

“That’s the one. As it happened, one of my stepfather’s competitors was present, a fellow by the name of Dartz.”

“You say he’s your stepfather’s competitor?”

“That’s right. After my stepfather died, I sold off the weapons manufacturing assets of KaibaCorp and kept only the gaming assets and the name. That was only a few years ago. You don’t remember—”

“I’m afraid we were pretty busy dealing with the death of Yugi’s grandfather at the time. I’m not as familiar with the history of KaibaCorp and other gaming companies as I’d like to be.”

“I suppose I think it should be common knowledge when that’s not actually the case,” said Kaiba.

“You were speaking of a benefit?”

“Yes. I didn’t like seeing Dartz there because I didn’t believe that he had any particular philanthropic leanings, but there was nothing I could do. I’d already signed up for the auction.”

“Auction?”

“The charity was having a celebrity auction for the fund, raffling off companionship with various celebrities in exchange for donations. My brother …” here Kaiba hesitated and sighed, the slightest color tingeing the pale surface of his cheeks, “my brother has the odd notion that he needs to help me meet someone.”

“Meet someone?” Atem echoed, his ears pricking up. Then perhaps Kaiba isn’t involved with anyone? Atem listened even more carefully.

Kaiba sighed again and said in frustrated tone, “To date. He thinks I don’t go out enough. However, I certainly meet and deal with more than enough people. Be that as it may, he convinced me to sign up for this auction, and, much to my everlasting regret, Dartz succeeded in buying my time.”

Atem frowned. “Who is this Dartz, anyway? I’ve never heard of him before.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. He does his best to remain behind the scenes, but he’s one of the richest men in the world, and his company is one of the most influential. It’s small, but it owns large chunks of huge companies that you know well. I’ve had to work hard to keep my own company free from his control—that’s how I know of him—and that took effort because he works indirectly. I’m not sure what his agenda is. All I know is that he has a lot of power at his disposal, both commercial and political. He’s not a man to be trifled with. I certainly didn’t want to spend time with him for this charity event.”

That description sounded extremely familiar. “Wait one moment,” Atem said, pulling out his wallet. He extracted the address that Isis had given him. Dartz … that was it. He hadn’t even looked at it yet. “So … what happened?”

Kaiba lifted a brow slightly at Atem’s actions, but let it go unchallenged. “What happened was even weirder than anything I had imagined,” he continued. “He said he wanted to take me for an outing to Old Town, can you believe it?”

“Oddly enough, I can.”

“He took me to this psychic,” Kaiba continued with some distaste.

“Let me guess,” said Atem. “Was it Isis Ishtar?”

“Yes. How did you—?”

“I’ll tell you later. Please go on.”

“Anyway, Dartz insisted that Isis read cards for me. She seemed reluctant, but Mokuba had come along with us and was very enthusiastic about it. I said it was all right, so she went ahead. It was for charity and Dartz was paying a lot for my companionship; I didn’t want to disappoint Mokuba. This woman, Isis, had me put my hands on this deck of Tarot cards, then she dealt them out.”

Kaiba paused, leading Atem to prompt, “And?”

“She said a lot of things, the usual rot, then she and Dartz got into a big discussion over tea.”

“About the reading?” He’d said “the usual rot,” but Atem couldn’t help but wonder. “Was there something that came up in the reading that might be important?” he asked.

Atem, who up until now had thought that Kaiba was incapable of strong reactions, discovered that he was wrong. Kaiba blushed again, this time a dusky rose that contrasted so beautifully with his eyes that Atem had to use every ounce of self-composure to restrain himself from reaching out to caress a darkened cheek.

“Of course not!” Kaiba said, a little too brusquely, causing Atem to be more curious than ever as to what exactly the reading entailed. He knew that it would do no good to ask Isis, and Kaiba looked like he was completely unwilling to share. Oh well.

“So … what was the discussion about?” prompted Atem, moving on with a little difficulty.

“That,” said Kaiba, the blush beginning to fade from his cheeks. “Frankly, I wasn’t paying close attention. But part of it had to do with art. The place had an ancient Egyptian theme and was filled with paintings. Apparently Dartz had painted all of them.”

“A businessman did this?” Atem said, trying to contain his excitement. He clamped down on a corner of his tongue to prevent himself from interrupting Kaiba’s story.

“Unusual, I agree, but this Dartz is anything but a typical businessman. As it turned out, Dartz wanted to do a portrait of me and for some reason, it had to end up in that very room. Isis didn’t want him to do it. There was some argument over the results of some of the other paintings he’d done.”

Atem frowned. He wished that Kaiba could remember that! It would be exactly the sort of thing that could help. He didn’t want to say anything until he’d heard the entire story, though. “Do you remember anything specific about that?”

“Actually, no, the reading had been weird enough. I only remember that it didn’t make much sense and things were just getting stranger from there. Just when I thought I would have to call the police, they calmed down and came to some sort of agreement.”

“Do you know what the agreement was?”

“All I know was that I had to pose for the damn painting and Isis agreed to hang it with the others. I don’t even remember if she agreed to pay for it.”

“Maybe it was part of the charity event.”

“For all I know. Anyway, the thing turned out to be more than I bargained for.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, first of all, I ended up posing for a few days. It was a huge inconvenience to KaibaCorp, not to mention myself! I made Mokuba come with me, just so he knew what he’d gotten me into. I made Dartz pay for that, believe me! At least Shelter from the Storm was happy.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh, I haven’t even gotten to the weird part yet. At least, not the really weird part.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It was a few days later that the dreams began.”

“Dreams?”

“Dreams. At first, I dreamed about that stupid séance room. I dreamed about Isis. I even dreamed about her brothers—she has two, one with strange tattoos all down one side of his face and another with light blond hair and peculiar eyes.”

“Aren’t there pictures of them, too? How do you know them?”

“That’s right,” he said. “I guess I didn’t mention meeting them. They were on their way out when we arrived. Like I really wanted to dream about her readings and family chats. Boring. Then I had recurring dreams about shopping—not just any shop, a curio shop, going through endless piles of antiques and old jewelry as though I were searching for something.”

“What would you be looking for?”

“In a place like that? I can’t imagine. I have no interest in such things. This was even more boring. After that, I dreamed I was in a stranger’s bedroom. It was very strange. This person talked to me continually, but I couldn’t seem to respond. Funny though, he seemed to know exactly what I wanted to say, just the same. Stranger still, it seemed as though I could only move when this person wasn’t looking directly at me. It was as though we were playing a game, or …” Kaiba frowned slightly, searching for words.

“As though you were under a spell?”

“I wouldn’t put it exactly that way, but yes.” Kaiba paused and looked at Atem so intensely that he thought his skin ought to start peeling off. “But this person in my dreams? He looked … yes, he looked remarkably like you. That’s why I approached you.” Kaiba shook his head as though to clear it. “On second thought, though, do you frequent the Magician’s Triple Dragon? Because if you do, maybe I subconsciously remember you.” He paused, his expression easing. “That’s how—”

“No, wait, Kaiba,” Atem said, putting up a hand. “Before you explain half of all this away with a simple explanation, you should know something. Remember the thing I had to tell you? The reaction I had when I saw you? That’s because I have that portrait in my room.”

Kaiba paused in mid-bite. “You … what?”

“That painting that Dartz did? It’s in my room now. Do you want to see it?”

There was a long pause as Kaiba stared at Atem, absorbing this. “Perhaps I should.”

* * *

They walked back to Atem’s apartment after a brief but uncomfortable pause during which Kaiba explained to his chauffeur/bodyguard that the limo wasn’t needed for such a short distance and Atem called Jounouchi to let him know that he was going home.

“I’ll explain everything later,” he insisted. “Yes, it has to do with—” Jounouchi interrupted, demanding that Atem spill everything that he’d talked over with Kaiba, but he refused. “Nothing’s settled. I’ll see you later.”

He ended the call and led the way, glancing over his shoulder at Kaiba’s bodyguard, who followed a few steps back, painfully conspicuous in his dark suit and sunglasses. “Don’t mind him,” Kaiba murmured, sending a mild shiver down Atem’s spine.

_I’m taking him to my room!_

Atem tried hard not to remind himself of that fact, nor glance toward Kaiba too frequently. He felt off-balance as it was. His own excitement frustrated and annoyed him because he liked to feel like he was in control. This guy had a way of turning things around on him easily without even knowing it!

“Hey, er, Atem, are you all right?” asked Kaiba.

Atem, suddenly brought back into the moment turned to Kaiba and said, “Of course, why do you ask?”

“You just seemed …”

Atem realized he’d probably been scowling and said, “This whole experience has been so strange, that’s all.” He almost sighed with relief when he saw that they were practically at his building. “Here we are.”

Kaiba instructed his bodyguard to wait outside Atem’s apartment while they talked things over.

“The painting’s up here,” Atem said. “I apologize for the mess.”

“You weren’t exactly expecting visitors.”

As Atem led the way up to the loft, he became acutely aware that they were entering his bedroom. He almost cringed. A painting like that in his bedroom? _Still, it’s not like he doesn’t already know. Kaiba’s watched me sleep in his dreams, hasn’t he?_ Atem thought.

Somehow that only increased his embarrassment.

_I forced Kaiba to watch me sleep, and get dressed … get undressed …_

He glanced at his companion, his face burning, as he opened the door. How could Kaiba keep his face impassive like that?

Kaiba entered the room. “Yes, that’s it,” he confirmed, unsurprised. “And this …” he continued, with a tinge of measured wonder, “is the room I’ve been dreaming about.”

Kaiba stunned Atem once again by unceremoniously seating himself on the edge of the bed and saying, “Tell me.”

Atem responded by sitting on the bed, cross-legged, and telling him the entire tale, only omitting his reasons for buying the painting and the more embarrassing details.

Kaiba stared at his own image in the painting silently for several minutes, as though deliberating what to say, his eyes dark and shadowed.

He turned slightly on the bed so that he could look at Atem, lifting one knee and moving a thigh partially onto the mattress. “Atem, I—”

Atem’s ringtone sounded suddenly, cutting Kaiba off. _Is it always so deafening?_ Atem thought, wondering why he hadn’t already changed the cheery, jazzy tune.

It was Jounouchi. “I don’t have anything to report!” he snapped, ending the call abruptly. Ticked, he turned the blasted device off and bounced it off his pillow a little harder than necessary. “You were saying?”

Atem thought he barely caught a sparkle of amusement in Kaiba’s eyes that quickly disappeared in blue shadows as he glanced away. “I didn’t tell you about the other dreams,” he said. Atem had the distinct impression that he had initially intended to say something completely different and swore at Jounouchi inside his head.

“Other dreams?” echoed Atem. “You had strange dreams other than these?”

Kaiba grimaced and said, “I dreamed about Dartz. I thought it was just a side-effect of having to pose for the painting.” He paused and sighed. “The whole experience was distasteful. I wouldn’t have done any of it if it weren’t for Mokuba.”

“You didn’t wear—”

“Of course not! He painted that in. I have no idea why he painted me as a pharaoh. I assumed it was his little joke … or he wanted to do it to fit in with Isis’ Egyptian theme.”

“But dreaming about Dartz?” Atem mused, returning to the main subject. “That can’t be good. Can you remember anything about them?”

Kaiba’s brow knitted in concentration. “It’s much more difficult to remember those dreams. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t mention them in the first place.”

“There’s another reason?”

“You weren’t in them. Those dreams …” He paused thoughtfully. “It was as though I hear Dartz calling me and, try as I might, I can’t resist going to him. I vaguely remember answering questions …” He frowned, cocking his head. “Did I … did I do things he asked of me? It seems like … I may have? There were strange places …” He shook his head. “It’s all so hard to remember.”

“You can’t remember anything about what he asked?”

“It’s strange because I can remember the other dreams much more clearly, even when I’d rather not.” He ran a hand through his hair, disturbing its beautifully-combed perfection, and said softly, “This whole thing is interfering with my schedule.”

“Ruining your sleep, is it?” Atem asked. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

“Actually, I’m sleeping too much, and I find myself daydreaming as well—all this is very uncharacteristic and is beginning to affect my job performance. And all this with Dartz …”

Atem leaned towards Kaiba, catching his eye. When they were eye to eye, he said, “All of this concerns me. I really want to investigate further. I think it’s no accident that this Dartz wanted to involve someone as important as you in something like this. It certainly has nothing whatever to do with charitable sentiment!”

“I agree. I think you should proceed as you planned. You should see Dartz. Only I’m going to come with you.”

Atem gave him a confident smile. “Sounds like a plan.” He paused, thinking. “You said that your brother came with you? Maybe he remembers more about what was said. Would it be all right if I spoke with him?”

The deep rose reappeared across Kaiba’s cheeks and now they were alone, making it even harder for Atem to keep his mind on what they were talking about. He twisted his hands into his blankets as Kaiba responded, “I’d really rather you didn’t. I don’t want him involved in this any further. Frankly, I’ve been trying to conceal what’s been going on and I don’t know how—” He sighed, breaking off his thought. “I’m positive that he’s beginning to notice something’s wrong.”

They walked downstairs and exchanged phone numbers. Kaiba was all for doing it the very next morning, but Atem was still just trying to take in what Kaiba had told him. Hell, he was still trying to recover from meeting Kaiba!

Isis had said wait a couple of days, something would happen …

Can she say, gift for understatement?

“Kaiba?” Atem said, “Before we see Dartz, I want to talk to Isis some more about those paintings. Why would Dartz want so many of them in her shop, for example? What exactly does she know about them? I’ll call you tomorrow and we can plan when to confront him.”

Kaiba shrugged. “I’ve waited this long to do something about this,” he allowed. “I’ll have someone look into Dartz further while you’re at it.” He started to walk out the door, then paused. “Oh,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “When you talk to that thing, would you mind calling it Seto? I really don’t like the name Harry.”

 

**Author’s notes ...**

_Dartz_ : [I think I should add that I intentionally left him (and any other Atlantis characters I’ve included in this story) out of the list of characters so as not to be overly obvious as to who is behind “all this.”] I hope you are not disappointed with my choice for the artist. To be honest, I’d originally planned on Pegasus (he is an artist, after all), but when I decided the antique dealer and the artist couldn’t be one and the same I didn’t want to re-cast Pegasus. And by that time, there were other reasons why I wanted to use someone like Dartz. So ... anyway, enough about that!

_Seto’s tale_ : This has a sense of a twice-told tale to me since we’ve seen parts of it from Atem’s perspective, but I think perhaps it’s unavoidable and I’ve tried to make it as interesting as possible. I truly hope I didn’t bore your socks off! (I once bought a book in a series only to find out that it was the same story as another book in the same series told from a different perspective. Yawn.)


	6. Groundwork

 

_Would you like who you were_  
 _If you met them someplace?_  
…  
 _Would you like yourself_  
 _If you knew what you have?_  
“Who Do You Love?” ~ Mojave 3

Atem climbed the stairs slowly, in a daze. As though the events of the day weren’t enough.

_Kaiba’s dreams!_

It was only the shock of realization that prevented sheer panic from overwhelming him.

That painting! He stared at it, thinking it over. Somehow, Kaiba was connected to the painting somehow and the painting was aware …

_As though? No, Kaiba is definitely connected to it. Harry …_

_No, Seto._

_Shit._

Was it always aware, or just sometimes? And, more importantly …

What had he said to it?

He’d confessed he was gay, for sure, but had he mentioned how totally freaking beautiful he thought Kaiba was? And … had he … ?

Fuck, what _had_ he done in the supposed privacy of his room while that painting was in there, involuntarily spying on him? He couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

It was a good thing you couldn’t actually die from embarrassment, or he’d have to call 911 right now.

He sighed and got up. “Well, Har—no, Seto,” he said, “I guess it’s a little late for this, but we really don’t know each other well enough for … OK, _I_ don’t know _you_ well enough for this. So …”

He lifted the painting and hung it in the empty spot next to the stairs, then heaved an extremely heavy sigh.

He was half-way up the stairs when the bell rang.

_Shit, what now?!_

He barely refrained from stomping his way down to the door and squinted through the peephole, then opened the door. “Jounouchi? Why—?”

“You turned off your cell! What the F, Atem! You have to tell me what happened! Why does that guy look like—You moved it. Why—?”

Atem grabbed Jounouchi’s arm and dragged him up to his bedroom. After Jounouchi had plunked down on the bed, he gave him the highlights, leaving out a few things to save the both of them as much embarrassment as possible. Even so, it felt a little bit like a confession.

“Shit, that was Kaiba Seto? And you and he … you’re going to confront some weird powerful magic guy? It sounds just like a video game! Sure you don’t want me to come with? And Honda? He’s pretty handy in a scrape, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure. I don’t think Kaiba would want a horde along with us.”

“I don’t care about him, Atem. You’re my best friend.” Jounouchi’s mouth set into a grim, narrow line as he looked out of Atem’s window, avoiding his eyes. “You know, this isn’t your fight, these pitchers? They don’t involve you at all. You don’t have to go in the first place.”

“Jou! What are you talking about? I didn’t track all that down just to give up now! I need to figure out what’s going on, and if that guy Dartz is hurting people—”

“You don’t know that he is! You don’t know what he’s doing.”

“There’s something really wrong about this,” Atem scowled. He had a horrible feeling that this Dartz character was manipulating Isis and now Kaiba to some sinister hidden purpose that he could only guess at. “I have to know what he’s up to, Jou, I just have to.” He paused. “I know it sounds stupid, Jou, but having that portrait for this past while … I feel like I already know Kaiba a little and I can’t just abandon him.”

Jounouchi sighed. “I get it. That’s it, though. Honda and I are coming along whether you two like it or not.”

“Trust me, I can handle this. I’ll have Kaiba with me.”

“A spoiled rich dude? Useless.”

“Jou, you haven’t even met him.”

“Do I have to?”

Atem harrumphed irritably. “He really is a lot more formidable than you give him credit for.”

“Whatever. You can prove it to me because we’re coming along.”

“Great. Oh well, I’ll be talking to him before we go over there anyway.” Atem didn’t like the thought of taking a small army with them, but in all probability Dartz already knew they were on their way, so it didn’t matter what they did, did it? He’d never felt quite so unprepared.

“I can’t believe that you wouldn’t tell me,” Jounouchi muttered.

“What?”

“You had a painting that moved and you didn’t even tell me about it!”

“It was crazy! I wanted proof before I told anyone I was nuts.”

“You know _I’d_ believe you.”

“Besides, you get so creeped out by anything weird like this.”

“Do not!”

“Please. A haunted painting? It’s exactly the kind of spooky thing that gets you going.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Oh, shall we call Mai and ask her?”

“Um …”

Atem yawned. “Jou … do you mind? It’s getting late, and it’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry.”

* * *

The next day, Atem made sure to get to the game shop early despite his late night—well provisioned with coffee. As soon as Yugi walked in, he said, “Yugi, I hate to ask you this, but—”

“Don’t tell me. You need me to cover for you again, don’t you?”

“Yes, but only over lunch. I want to take a long lunch break today. I promise I’ll make it up to you however you want! I came in early and took care of all the ordering and invoices!”

“OK, spill. What’s so motivating that you’ll do the invoices without prompting? I’ll cover for you, but you have to tell me all about it.”

Atem sighed and gave Yugi basically the same capsule summary he’d given Jounouchi.

“Kaiba, huh?” Yugi said thoughtfully. “So that’s why he seemed familiar.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, his picture’s on some of the material we get from KaibaCorp! If you ever went through that stuff, you’d know!”

“Why should I go through the marketing crap when they send us demos? That’s what I use to select inventory!”

Yugi shrugged. “Well don’t blame me. You could have saved yourself a lot of time if you’d just look through some of these things, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh. So what are you going to do over lunch, anyway?”

“I’m going back to see that psychic. She knows more than she’s saying.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Yugi said. “I’ll get the store opened.” He headed up the stairs, mumbling something about, “… could have met him … had to wait for a damn painting to know he exists …”

Atem opened his mouth, then closed it.

_You don’t use marketing materials to find dates!_ was what he was going to say.

He wasn’t ready to say that yet.

* * *

Atem arranged to take a long lunch break and once again found himself in Old Town standing in front of Isis’ shop.

He sighed and entered.

“Hello, Atem,” Isis said, coming into the greeting area. “I was expecting you.”

“Of course you were.”

“Surely your skepticism has lessened over the past little while.”

“Perhaps, but I think it’s best not to drop my guard.”

“So, tell me,” said Isis, “has anything happened?”

“Actually, I met someone. Do you have any appointments right now?”

“No, it’s my lunch period.”

“Then, do you mind if we take a walk?”

“Not at all,” she said.

Quickly they were out under a blue sky. Small fluffy white clouds crept lazily before a soft spring breeze. It was perfect for a walk.

Isis looked at Atem and sighed, then they started down the street. “You’re relieved to be out here,” Atem observed. “Is it because of those paintings?”

“You’re a perceptive man, just as I suspected.”

“They are conscious, then.”

“In a sense. I’d prefer to say they are an extension of consciousness … but if only it were that simple. It’s more than that.”

“More? Explain it to me!” Atem stopped and took Isis’ hand. “I promise, I want to help you.”

“You want to help _him_ , isn’t that right?”

Atem allowed the smallest of smiles to tease the corners of his mouth, and he nodded slightly. “Kaiba?” he said. He looked earnestly into those blue eyes, not quite so blue as his, and went on, “Of course I do. Perhaps you can see it—perhaps you can even see how much. But I want to help you as well. I know you can see that! And I know I can.”

“Perhaps you can. It seems so impossible, but …” For a long moment, Isis stared back into Atem’s eyes as though they were a crystal ball. At last, she said, “I hope that you can help us, but still I dare not say what I know. It is little enough as it is and I doubt that it can do much to help you.”

They walked together a little, then Isis said, “I was planning to use my art to try to find out more …”

“But you didn’t, did you? What changed your mind? Why won’t you tell me—?”

_She refuses to reveal anything more_ , Atem realized. _She won’t even say how she came to be tied to Dartz_.

“It’s because of your brothers, isn’t it?” he blurted, the idea striking him. “Those paintings in your séance room—”

“As I observed, you are a perceptive man. You’re right. Dartz gave me a call and warned me not to look into his affairs. When you keep your appointment, you will see for yourself how strong invisible chains can be,” she said.

His brow creasing, Atem noted the sheen of unshed tears in Isis’ eyes. _Invisible chains?_ “What is he doing? Can he hurt your brothers?!” he asked with some urgency. If Dartz could injure them, what might he be able to do to Kaiba?

Isis looked down toward her feet, her expression more sorrowful than ever. Finally, she looked up, sighing. “I suppose it’s clear enough that he can. Dartz will no doubt show you how.” Suddenly she grabbed his hand impulsively and said, “Please consider having a reading—privately, away from my shop.”

_Away from those paintings_ , Atem thought. Isis fished a card from her pocket and pressed it into Atem’s hand. “This has my private cell number on it,” she said.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting it go. He almost hated to turn her down when she was looking at him so earnestly with those huge blue eyes of hers, but he didn’t want to accept before he’d met Dartz for himself. Besides, her evasion set him on edge and he needed to know a little more about its cause.

Atem wondered what more he could ask her, but he was beginning to run short of time and soon found himself hurrying back to the game shop.

* * *

That evening, Atem was in the back unpacking some board games when he heard the door followed by Yugi’s automatic greeting. “Welcome to Kame Game Shop! Can I help you?” Then he heard a squeak of surprise.

“You … You’re not Atem,” a musical baritone said with a hint of hesitation. “You’re …”

Atem’s heart lurched. He already knew that voice.

“Ah! Mr Kaiba! You want my cousin. We look a little alike. He’s in the back.” Yugi’s voice lifted as he called to his cousin, “Atem!”

Atem realized he’d paused, and hurriedly ripped open a shipping box. “I’ll be right there,” he replied.

“Meanwhile, can I help you with anything?” Yugi asked.

Before Kaiba could answer, Atem walked out carrying the games. “Hi Kaiba,” he said, making to shelve the games. “I let Yugi know a little about what we’re doing. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I suppose it can’t be helped,” he said, looking slightly disconcerted.

“I’ll take care of those games,” said Yugi. “I’m sure you need to talk. Why don’t you use the game area in the back?”

The two entered the little nook and Kaiba seated himself without hesitation. “I want to go tomorrow,” he said. “This is a distraction, and an unpleasant one at that. Have you found out anything of value?”

“Apparently Isis wanted to use her arts to see what she could find out about Dartz, but …” Atem sighed. “You know the portraits of her brothers that Dartz painted.”

“Hn.”

“I think that she’s afraid of what he might do.”

“Hn. Do you honestly think she could be of any real help?”

“Kaiba, Dartz involved her from the beginning. For some reason, he wanted to have her do a reading for you before he painted your portrait at all, and for whatever reason, at least some of these portraits have found their way into her place of business. She may not be directly involved, but she’s involved in some way, and I’m thinking involuntarily.” He paused. “But, to be frank, she refused to say anything outright. I think Dartz did something to remind her that he’s one step ahead of her.”

“And yet again, we’re short of data,” Kaiba said with disgust.

“One thing, though,” Atem said, frowning slightly. “I didn’t see a portrait of Isis there. Do you think there’s any significance to that?”

“Possibly. At this point, I’ll consider some pretty wild hypotheses.” He sighed. “I had an aide look into Dartz and his company—gave him a rationale about competition and partnership strategies—he came up with virtually nothing we could use. Because his company is a holding company, he can easily disguise any moves he’s making by pulling strings through his holdings. Any project that he has—”

“Is well hidden,” Atem finished.

“Exactly. I can work up a program to analyze all the public data of all his holdings to look for patterns, but that will take time and even then we’ll miss anything that isn’t publicly available.”

“So we’re screwed.”

“Hn.”

“Which means we’ll have to go in and figure it out as we go along.”

“If we can.”

“One other thing, Kaiba, my friend, Jounouchi? He’s insisted on coming along.”

“This is what happens when you insist on telling other people your business, Atem. Did you tell him we didn’t need to turn this into an expedition?”

“Actually, yes, but he’s very insistent.”

“Honestly, I know you trust your friends, but do you have to tell everyone you know about _my_ business?”

“I’m just trying to help, Kaiba.”

“I understand, but say they tell their trusted friends? Before I know it I see the headline, _KaibaCorp CEO Ready for Loony Bin? Witnesses Report Bizarre Obsession with Painting_.”

“I’m sorry, Kaiba,” Atem sighed. “They’re concerned about me and I’m used to letting them in. I guess I sort of …” He paused. What had he thought, anyway? That they were helping him out with his goofy picture? Was he thinking of Kaiba as an extension of that? He stared at Kaiba. “I guess this whole thing is hard for me to get used to,” he admitted. “A couple of days ago, I just had a strange painting and now I have to take another person into consideration. I guess I’m not doing that very well.”

“I guess not.” When Atem blushed hotly at the blunt reply, Kaiba added, “But never mind about that. Can you make time tomorrow? It might take all day. I’ve cleared my schedule and can be here at nine a.m.”

“I’ll work it out with Yugi. I can always make it up to him.”

“Good. I’ll meet you here.” He started to get up, then paused and said, “You moved the painting.”

Atem felt his cheeks grow hot and considered what he wanted to say. It wasn’t as though he could deny it. “I figured I shouldn’t force you to watch me dress and sleep.”

“That wasn’t so bad, Atem.”

“I …” Atem glanced toward the front of the store, where Yugi stood at the counter looking utterly absorbed in a catalog. There wasn’t a customer in the store. “Let’s take a walk or something, OK?”

“That would be best.”

The two headed for the door. “Yugi, I’m going to take a break. Do you want a cup of coffee or something?” he asked.

“You could bring back a soda,” he said.

They stepped out of the shop into the dark, cool spring air and suddenly Atem wanted to forget everything and simply walk with Kaiba until they ran out of sidewalk. He wanted to reach for Kaiba’s hand so badly that he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Kaiba,” he said, “It’s just that I … I never dreamed—” he cringed a little when he realized what word he’d used, “—that I was talking to more than a painting. I thought I was basically—oh, hell.” _What, talking to myself? That’s pathetic_ , he thought.

“It’s a little late to worry about that, wouldn’t you agree?” Kaiba said.

“I suppose …”

“I can only speak for myself, but dreaming about your living room is a great deal more boring than dreaming about your bedroom, and your friends … and you.”

They were walking past a park now, and Atem stopped suddenly, looking down at his shoes. “I just feel … embarrassed—and like I’ve been imposing on you! I’ve poured out my heart to that damn painting and—” Struck with a stabbing sensation in his chest that he’d said way too much, he stopped short and turned to stare at Kaiba. “Shit.”

Kaiba was looking back down at him, intently it seemed, but his face was obscured by shadow; Atem couldn’t see his expression.

“Atem, we could pretend that we’ve just met, but it’s not exactly like that, is it?” He paused, and when Atem hesitated, trying to think what to say, he went on. “I’m the first person to pretend that a painting is just a silly bit of decoration, but it’s stupid to ignore the obvious.”

“I forced you into my life without asking.”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“I … I can’t know what you … remember.”

“Is that what’s bothering you so much? I’m not sure I could tell you, actually. And I couldn’t exactly tell you what was going on. It was … a dream. I wasn’t fully aware that it even was that painting … though perhaps I should have been.”

“What are you talking about? Who would automatically assume that they’re looking at things from a painting’s point of view?”

“I suppose.” Kaiba put a hand on Atem’s shoulder and said, haltingly, “Atem. It’s been in a kind of strange way, but all this while, we’ve communicated, haven’t we?”

“We have … but … I didn’t really hear you, Kaiba, I just sort of _knew_ what you were saying.”

A sigh. “Would it help if I told you that I miss you?”

_Already?_

Atem frowned up into that shadowy face, desperately trying to discern its features.

Was Kaiba just trying to make him feel better? He hadn’t judged him as that sort of person.

“Atem, I’m not kidding. I don’t want to waste time feeling awkward over this. It’s all Dartz’ fault anyway. We just met, and we’re already more intimate than is comfortable. What do you want to do to fix that?”

“You want to fix it?” Atem asked. The hand on his shoulder was beginning to feel incredibly heavy.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

_Fuck it …_

Quickly, so he couldn’t second-guess himself, Atem stepped forward and slipped his arms around Kaiba. “Seto …” he murmured, tightening the embrace and pressing his head against Kaiba’s chest.

For a moment, Atem felt panicky as the body within his grasp stiffened slightly. Then it slowly relaxed and the hand on his shoulder slipped around his back and was joined by another. Atem closed his eyes and listened to the rhythm of Kaiba’s heart.

Very softly, Kaiba said, “I dreamed of a man who spoke to me, but there was a barrier between us. I could no more step into his world that he could step through into mine. But all that was illusion, Atem. It was a dream.”

Atem closed his eyes, letting Kaiba’s warmth penetrate him. _It wasn’t a dream, though_ , he thought. Whatever it was, it was real, and Kaiba knew it as well as he did. That’s why they both had to see Dartz. Still, he didn’t bother voicing his disagreement.

“Better?” asked Kaiba.

“Better,” he agreed. They walked back slowly, closer together. Atem decided to start calling him Seto. After all, Seto had said it himself, there was no use pretending.

Finally they stood in front of the Kame Game shop. Atem turned to look at Seto, the soft glow from the interior falling across his face. He began to say goodbye, but Seto stopped him, saying, “I think it would be better if you didn’t come tomorrow after all.”

“What are you saying? You said yourself that I had a stake in this.” He searched Seto’s face.

“I’ve been thinking. There are portraits of Isis’ brothers in her shop, but none of her. I find that suspicious.”

“Yes, but I don’t see—”

“There is currently no painting of you and you have no connection to Dartz. I see no reason to change any of that now. Let me handle this.”

Atem sighed. “You’re thinking about Isis, aren’t you? How cooperative she’s been with Dartz? How unhelpful she’s been even though she seems sympathetic? You think Dartz is somehow using the portraits to pressure her.”

“Atem …”

“If you don’t come for me tomorrow, I’m going to meet with Dartz on my own, you know that. My mind is made up.”

“Atem, we don’t know what we’re getting into, but I don’t want you putting yourself in danger on my account.”

“It’s too late to think about that now.” Atem chuckled. “I think it was already too late even before we met.” He used the moment as an excuse to give Seto another hug, then watched him as he walked back to where his limo was waiting. With a sigh, he opened the shop door.

“Hi, Atem!” Yugi greeted. “What kind of soda did you get me?”

“Soda? Oh, crap!”

 

**Author’s notes ...**

_he’d have to call 911_ : Yes, well, I realize this might well not be accurate, but I included the Americanism for comedy effect. ;) If translating, please assume this reads “he’d have to call an ambulance.”

_I dare not say what I know_ : Isis is frustrating, isn’t she? I’m sorry about that, but hopefully she’ll be more cooperative a little later on!

Ah, yes, I suppose I should say something about Kaiba seeming somewhat OOC here. My premise (and I believe I go into more detail in my notes later on [I’m writing this on the re-post]) is that since the “essence” of Kaiba is exposed in the painting, it “catalyzes” the relationship between him and Atem so that even though they’ve supposedly just met, it’s as though they’ve known each other for some time—even longer, in fact, than Atem has owned the painting. So, even though Kaiba is uncomfortable with the speed of events, he feels a kind of need to go with them nevertheless. I hope this makes _some_ kind of sense …


	7. Dartz

 

_The keeper of the city keys_  
 _Puts shutters on the dreams._  
 _I wait outside the pilgrim’s door_  
 _With insufficient schemes._  
“The Court of the Crimson King” ~ King Crimson

The next morning they met at the game shop. To Seto’s disgruntlement, Jounouchi and Honda had called in sick and insisted on coming along to ensure Atem’s safety. However, he allowed them into the limousine without comment, only stating his disapproval by staring at the two silently with his arms crossed.

“Soooo,” Honda eventually said, attempting to break the awkward silence, “This Dartz … can you tell me anything about him?”

Atem glanced toward Seto and when he didn’t speak, said, “Actually, I don’t know much about him. All I know is that he’s some sort of businessman who’s very rich, powerful, and mysterious. Why he’s involved in paintings that have these sorts of odd properties is beyond me.”

“Why is obvious,” Seto said, finally speaking up. “It’s a method of increasing his power. The question is how he manages the manipulation.”

Atem glanced out the window to disguise his frustration, unable to frame an appropriate reply. Naturally Seto would like to think it was a manipulation because he didn’t want to consider the implications if it weren’t. He knew that Seto would hate to think that someone could sneak so far beyond the cutting edge of science without his being aware of it. It would be so much better if they were prepared for the prospect that whatever it was that Dartz was doing was completely real.

“Y’know, there’s nothin’ wrong with bringin’ along a little help, Kaiba,” Jounouchi said.

“I could bring along a team of highly-qualified security personnel if I so desired, but I don’t think that’s appropriate for this meeting,” Seto said without bothering to disguise his irritation.

“Yeah? Well, we’re Atem’s backup, not yours.”

“You’re his friends, not his backup, and, as I understand it, you volunteered your services uninvited.”

“Pft! You just _wish_ you were as good a friends with Atem as—”

Seto turned his glacial gaze onto Jounouchi so sharply that his jaw clicked shut and he said no more for the duration of the ride. Honda attempted to fill the uneasy silence with random observations and questions about the neighborhoods they were passing through.

“Here we are,” Seto announced at last. “This is the headquarters of Paradise Unlimited. I don’t foresee any trouble getting in, but you should all be alert, nevertheless.”

Seto asked Isono to wait and walked in with the others. Seto motioned to the three to stop behind him while he spoke to the receptionist at the desk in the lobby. In a few moments, he returned.

“Dartz has agreed to see us,” he said.

“Without an appointment?” asked Honda.

“I expected he would,” said Seto. “It’s not every day that the president of another company drops by unannounced.”

“I don’ see why you didn’t make an appointment in the first place,” said Jounouchi.

“Don’t you think a surprise attack is better? … If it’s possible.” There was a trace of doubt in Seto’s voice as he led them into the elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor and the car took off smoothly at express speed. In seconds the car stopped and the doors slid all-but-silently open.

They stepped out of the elevator and Atem asked, “Did we get off on the right floor?” because the room that opened up before them looked like anything but an office.

“This is the top floor,” Seto confirmed, gesturing toward the floor number, which was inscribed next to the elevator doors in gold. However, the elevator doors and number were the only items in the area that seemed in keeping with an office building.

They entered an enormous circular room with high, domed ceilings, well-lit by large crystal windows. A number of beautifully upholstered chairs stood against the walls. Atem took a step into the room, looking down, and said, “What, is that agate?”

“I believe so,” said Seto. “Agate floors, walls paneled with rose quartz; this room must have taken millions to outfit.”

Atem and the others followed, gawking around at the palatial surroundings. “Is this where you came to sit for the portrait, Seto?” Atem asked.

“Yes,” Seto murmured. Striding purposefully to the center of the room, he said, “Where is Dartz, anyway?”

“Just as impatient as when I last saw you, I see.”

All four of them turned to the source of the voice, which came from a man entering through heavy mahogany doors opposite the elevators.

The entire atmosphere of the room changed with the man’s presence. Atem couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was about him, but he carried a kind of aura about him that could only be described as intimidating. As much as Atem wanted to, he couldn’t attribute it to his strange appearance. Dartz’ abundant aquamarine hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, reaching nearly to his knees. His clothing was even more unusual and expensive-looking than Seto’s: An old-fashioned tabard with a flowing train and generous, open sleeves that was elaborately embroidered with gold; his pants tucked into high boots.

“Do you always leave important guests, even those who arrive unannounced, to wander around your offices unattended?” Seto asked.

“It couldn’t be helped. And this … you’ve brought friends. I expected Atem—” Atem flinched at hearing his name, “—but these other young men? Their presence is entirely unnecessary.”

“They can hear anything—” Atem began, and Jounouchi and Honda began to voice objections as well.

“I’m sorry, but I really must insist,” Dartz said, producing an electronic item that looked like a cell phone or a small remote from his sleeve. He tapped it a few times, and suddenly Atem heard a small groan.

Atem turned just in time to see Jounouchi and Honda collapse to the floor. “Jou!” he cried, sprinting the few steps between them and kneeling next to him. Seto walked over to Honda at a more leisurely pace to examine him.

“They’ll be perfectly fine,” Dartz said. “I just think our discussions will be more productive if they’re more … intimate, don’t you agree?”

“What did you do?” Atem demanded. “I won’t discuss anything until you tell me!”

“You’re just as difficult as I expected,” Dartz said. “It’s just an electromagnetic field. They’re entirely unharmed. I just want to keep this meeting between the three of us and I’m afraid that they’d insist on butting in one way or the other. This way, they’ll sleep peacefully until our business is concluded.”

“Other than being unconscious, your friend seems all right,” Seto said, standing.

“And if I say I won’t talk to you until you wake them?” asked Atem.

“What if I ask you to decide whether to continue this meeting or go back home with your friends?” asked Dartz. “I didn’t tell you to come here or bring your friends with you. I’m more than happy to talk to you and Kaiba, but I have no interest in involving anyone else. You can accept that arrangement or I can wake your friends and you can go home right now.”

Atem stood, his hands balled into fists, and looked at Seto. He knew Seto wanted to go ahead with the meeting and he certainly didn’t want to go home with nothing to show for it. “Very well,” he growled.

“Good,” said Dartz, coming forward. “I knew you were a reasonable man.” Now that he was closer, Atem could see that he had heterochromia, with one golden eye and one aquamarine eye. In the back of his mind, he wondered if any of Dartz’ coloration was natural. “So, what exactly do you want?”

“I want this to stop,” Seto said.

“‘This?’ What do you mean?”

“You know very well.”

“I’d like to hear you say it.”

Seto sighed, frustrated. “The dreams.”

“You mean the portrait, isn’t that right?” said Dartz. “Admit it. You don’t understand how you can know what’s going on in the room where your portrait hangs, or why you dream about me.”

Seto simply turned away, crossing his arms. Dartz turned to Atem. “But _you’ll_ admit it readily enough. You didn’t even know Kaiba existed until you met him via that portrait.”

“All right,” Atem admitted grudgingly. “Tell us. How do you do it?”

Dartz smiled. “Kaiba, you and the painting—and this place here, with me—are all one. That is, you’re in all these places simultaneously. So naturally you experience all three places.”

“That makes no sense!” Seto exclaimed, turning back toward Dartz and waving an arm.

“You don’t accept that you are more than your body?”

“I don’t accept that my mind can be divided like a flatworm.”

“Ah, but it’s not divided at all! You’re thinking in three dimensions.”

“You’re saying I’m a Guinea pig to prove string theory?”

“No, you’re participating in a practical application of what I’ve learned about the physical world.”

“Make yourself clear.”

Dartz smiled and said, “Spooky action at a distance.”

_Like dreaming about the location where your portrait hangs? Or … a painting that moves!_ Atem scowled and glanced at Seto’s face again. He was silent, waiting, his expression set, frustrated, furious. Atem wanted to take his large hand, but he knew that if he did, his own hand would only be thrown aside. As brief as their time together had been, Atem was already well aware that Seto hated the feeling that some other person knew more than he did—or, worse, might even be smarter than he was.

“I should mention that my scientific tradition is a little … unusual,” Dartz continued pleasantly. “I follow a path that goes back to the most ancient times. The ancients did not tear things apart as you modern people do. They didn’t separate nature from man, science from religion, good from evil. All things are inseparable and interdependent. In the universe, nothing can be truly destroyed, only transmuted. Even modern science has learned this fact.”

A sudden realization hit Atem. “You don’t think we can do anything, do you?” he challenged, angry. “You plan to tell us everything because you think you hold all the cards!”

“I know you care about this man,” Dartz said pointing at Seto, “and I mean to demonstrate that I have him completely in my power—”

“You—” Seto began.

“Why do you think Isis was so willing to cooperate with me?” Dartz continued, ignoring Seto. “I hold her brothers hostage!”

“Hostage?” Seto said. “But I saw—”

“You saw them?” Dartz laughed. “Their bodies? That’s nothing! Atem, Kaiba is my hostage as well. I’ve held him all this while, even before you met him.”

“Bastard! You have no—!” began Seto, but Dartz cut him off.

“You know in your heart I do. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Well, isn’t it?! Why are you here, Kaiba?”

“I … these dreams …”

“… are just the symptom of it, isn’t that right?” When Seto simply stood there, face set and eyes down, his body rigid and hands in tight fists, Dartz went on. “I believe it’s time for my demonstration.”

“What is it that you want from him?” Atem interrupted.

“From him? I already have everything I want from _him_.” Dartz turned his expectant gaze on Atem.

Seto, who was beginning to look sullenly submissive, sprang to life. “Atem will not cooperate with you! Atem—!”

“Don’t worry, Seto,” Atem said, “I have no intention of giving in to him.”

“Please hold any final decisions until after my demonstration,” said Dartz. “Follow me, I have something to show you.”

He led the way into a small octagonal chamber lined entirely with polished black mirrors, including the floor and ceiling. In the center of the room was a huge crystal. This crystal was extremely large and oblong in shape, set on end so that it was almost as tall as Seto himself. The color was a brilliant aquamarine that almost seemed to glow. The effect was mesmerizing.

Shaking off the effect, Atem noticed Seto, who was looking distinctly on edge.

“Seto?” he whispered.

“I dreamed of this place,” he murmured softly.

Atem looked back at the crystal. Without thinking, he put his hand out to touch it.

“You probably don’t want to do that unless you like being knocked out for a week or so,” commented Dartz. Atem pulled his hand back abruptly.

“I call this the Oracle Stone,” Dartz went on. “It’s the culmination of all my years of research—or, should I say, the culmination of centuries, millennia of research?”

Seto frowned. “I don’t see …”

“Let me explain. The ancients approached the world holistically, as I said. Because of this, alchemy, electromagnetism, spirit … everything is connected.”

“Start making sense,” demanded Seto.

“Shut up and listen. I’ll show you. This crystal, for example. The Oracle stone took me decades to learn to make and decades more to grow—”

“But you can’t be more than thirty!” Atem exclaimed.

“Can’t I?” said Dartz. “I won’t go into that now, but depend on it, I am a bit older than that. This stone has only one flaw, where I carefully struck this gem from its base.” Dartz showed them a miniature version of the stone, which he wore as a pendant. “This smaller stone is connected to the larger one still, because they were grown in one unit. Let me demonstrate.”

With that, he pressed a button on his remote. A small orifice appeared in the middle of the ceiling which admitted a bright ray of sunlight, which streamed down directly into the heart of the crystal. The effect was amazing. Like a prism, the crystal split the light, splashing colored light onto the black mirrors opposite them.

“What … what is this?” asked Seto. “The mirrors don’t—”

“They don’t reflect the light that comes from the crystal? That’s because this is no ordinary spectrum! It doesn’t act as an ordinary prism, splitting light into its component wavelengths. No, this crystal transmutes the light into an entirely new spectrum! Each of these wavelengths of light has very special properties. One of these properties is that it is not reflected by these black mirrors; it travels through them into trans-dimensional space.”

Seto said nothing, but began looking carefully at the setup, from giant crystal to light beams to mirrors. Atem could almost hear the impressive machinery of his mind hard at work trying to understand the physics of the situation. Could this be faked? Or could what Dartz was saying be true?

When Kaiba looked back, Dartz said, “Now, see the Oracle’s child.” He held up his pendant for them to see. Even though it was in the shadows, it shined brilliantly, casting its own light into the darkness. “The sunlight does not affect this stone, nor is this stone directly connected to the other one—in any way that we can see, yet the sunlight is transmitted from the parent stone to its child so that the child stone casts its own rainbow. Long ago, the ancients realized that there is much of the universe that we cannot see. Understanding and seeing the unseen is difficult indeed …”

Dartz smiled again and ushered them into an adjoining room outfitted as an artist’s studio.

“… but not impossible,” he concluded. “You see these paints? All the paint I use are oil paints, but that’s where the similarity ends between these and ordinary oil paints.”

“Spare us the elaboration,” prompted Seto, annoyed.

“Very well, but you should know this: I personally formulated the pigments of these paints alchemically and exposed them to theta radiation from the Oracle stone.”

Atem could almost hear Seto’s eyes roll. “Seto …” he whispered. As frustrating as it was, they both knew something was going on here. He needed Seto to drop his irritation enough to absorb the facts. Atem wanted Seto’s brainpower to work on this problem. “So, what does that do?” he asked aloud.

“When I paint, I bathe subject and canvas in sigma radiation from the Oracle stone. This connects the subject, the painting, and the Oracle stone together.”

“I don’t understand,” said Atem.

“Oh yes you do. I know Seto does,” he said. Seto opened his mouth as though to say something, but Dartz continued, “Never mind, I’ll make myself clear, then. The soul, gentlemen; have you ever considered what it’s made of?”

Seto looked so considerably annoyed by this time that he was about to explode. Atem gripped his arm and whispered urgently, “We need to hear him out or we won’t be able to figure out what to do. He thinks we won’t be able to do anything even if we know everything.”

“I know!” Seto murmured back very softly.

_Of course_ , Atem thought. _That’s why he’s so angry_.

“Some _theorize_ that a soul is electromagnetic energy,” Seto said finally, his voice taut with frustration.

“Ah, but you don’t believe in souls … even now? I wonder how you would explain what has been happening to you, then?”

“I can’t.”

“And your mind has been opened just a crack. I’m sorry, Kaiba, it can be a very painful process. Conventional science sees energy as something that must be generated somehow, but the soul is something that conventional science doesn’t recognize. Kaiba, you must understand that this is because the soul is a transdimensional being, by which I mean it exists in more than this universe. You are much larger than you imagine. But to the point, the soul attaches itself to a living human being. The energy of the Oracle stone in combination with certain compounds can duplicate that process. In this way, you can capture the living soul.”

“This—” Seto began to object, but Atem broke in.

“Wait,” he said. “Why is this process so … complicated? Why the portraiture? Couldn’t you just use that … crystal, or whatever?”

“Ah, you don’t miss anything, do you?” said Dartz. “I could trap a soul in the light, but that would only last as long as the subject, the human, was illuminated. The painting is what seals it. Note how primitive cultures fear photography; their fear that the camera will capture the soul in the process of capturing the likeness? This comes from an ancient understanding that there is an imprinting or connection between the likeness and the soul. In fact, the process of capturing the likeness is the final step in entrapping the soul!”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe it takes drawing a picture to trap a soul?!” Seto retorted.

“To be honest,” Atem said, “I’m having trouble with that one myself. The crystal and the rays, OK, the pigment, maybe, but the artwork?”

“Believe what you like. Because the soul is transdimensional, binding it is no simple matter. It is an art form more than a cut-and-dry process.” He smiled. “You have to bind it to a form similar to the form that it has attached itself to.”

“You’re saying that you need to create a facsimile compatible with the given soul—”

“Yes! The likeness—in combination with the special pigment—does this, then the energy of the rays from the Oracle stone seals it.”

Atem frowned. “This would be similar to Voodoo magic … when a doll is created …”

“Exactly. Very good, Atem.”

“Oh, that’s too ridiculous to be believed!” Seto broke in. “I’ve put up with your song and dance until now because I can’t explain what’s been going on, but this story is so _outré_ that you can’t possibly expect me to swallow it! There must be some sort of hypnosis … It has to be.”

“My dear Kaiba, you know that it’s not, but I’m more than happy to give you another demonstration. Atem can witness everything. First, let’s return to the other room.”

Atem glanced at Seto with growing concern as they walked the few steps back into the strange, black-mirrored room. He looked extremely reluctant.

“Don’t worry so much, Atem!” Dartz said. “You know, I’ve always wanted to try this.” He pressed a button on his remote control and a glass panel descended from the ceiling. “This panel separates out omega radiation from the Oracle stone. Watch.”

With this, Dartz walked around the panel into a patch of violet light. “Seto … Kaiba Seto,” he called softly.

“What the …” Seto began, but his voice faded rapidly.

Atem looked toward Seto, then stared at him in alarm, noticing that his eyes became glassy and staring. “Seto!” he called, grabbing his arm. Seto didn’t respond, but became stiff and seemed unaware of his surroundings. “Dartz!” Atem shouted, turning to him. “What have you done to him?!”

“I’ve already told you. Observe.”

Atem’s grip on Seto’s arm became tighter as he noticed that Dartz seemed to have a companion on his side of the glass. At first the figure was barely visible, as though it were made of a violet mist almost the same color as the ambient light. Slowly, the figure gained contrast and definition, becoming clearly the image of Kaiba Seto himself! Interestingly, the figure seemed to be clad in a violet misty version of the Egyptian garb he wore in the painting.

“What is this?!” exclaimed Atem.

“I’ve already told you,” said Dartz calmly. “How many times do we need to go over this? This is your friend’s soul. Hm … he really isn’t very aware when I’ve called him all the way here, is he? I was afraid of that. Good to know.”

“You …” Atem tried to contain his anger. “How can you be so … You’re experimenting on a human being here! An important man!”

“Why would I trouble with someone I can’t use?” Dartz turned to the filmy figure next to him. “Tell me, what of Argent Entertainment?”

The form began to speak. Its voice was similar to Seto’s own voice, but sounded muted, as though coming from a distant place, and strangely thinned and oddly bubbly. “We have decided to go ahead with the acquisition of Argent. The numbers are good and their upcoming projects have been verified as promising.”

“There, you see, Atem? His soul is enslaved to me. He’ll answer anything I want. Moreover, he’ll do what I ask of him, within limits,” Dartz murmured in the figure’s ear.

Atem nearly jumped as Seto—his physical body—moved. Atem realized that he had a death grip on Seto’s arm and let go. He looked into Kaiba’s eyes, which were still glassy and remote. “Seto,” he whispered. “Whatever you’re experiencing, it’s OK—”

But the handsome, vacant face was coming closer and closer, and a hand came up to cup Atem’s cheek. Atem put his own hand over it. “Seto, it’s—” he began, but then lips were gently pressed to his forehead.

“He’s a shy one,” commented Dartz. “I asked him to kiss you and he chastely kisses you on the forehead. Would you like me to be more specific?”

“You bastard,” Atem said, keeping his voice low to keep from screaming, “let him go.”

“And if I don’t? Just what do you intend to do?” asked Dartz.

What could he do? Nothing. Atem reached for Seto again, finding his wrist. Gripping Seto’s wrist firmly, he said, “What is it that you want?”

“You are just as perceptive as Isis said you were. What indeed?” Dartz walked toward him, turning around and motioning toward the room as he did so. “Do you comprehend the implications of all that I’ve achieved here?” he asked.

“I do,” Atem said carefully. “It’s … astounding.” _Not to mention horrifying_ , he thought.

“You don’t have to say it,” Dartz said. “You don’t approve. It’s all right. Nevertheless, I require an apprentice.”

“A … how can you—it’s out of the question!”

“Please, don’t be so hasty. You can’t begin to fathom the secrets that you’ll be learning. Doesn’t that intrigue you in the least? Come on! A man like you …!”

If people weren’t being hurt … arcane secret knowledge? It was exactly the sort of thing Atem would want to learn. But he was damned if he would admit it to Dartz.

“How about this?” Dartz went on, smiling. “You can cooperate and help me out, and I’ll lay off your very attractive friend.”

What had Isis said about the strength of invisible chains? Helping Dartz sounded like assisting the devil, but what else could he do? Nobody but Dartz knew how this stuff even worked! He needed information before he could help anyone. He didn’t dare try destroying the painting for fear it might kill Seto outright.

Atem sighed. “If I agree … If! You’ll let him go?”

“If I let him go, I have no hold over you, Atem. No, I’ll stop manipulating him. I’ll minimize the effect so the painting will be all but a painting.”

“Kaiba’s dreams?”

“He might have one rarely, but the painting will be transformed into a more-or-less normal painting.”

“You know, Dartz, I do have a demanding job. When do you expect me to help you?”

“I’ll pay you and provide you with an excellent employee for your shop. It’s not like I can’t afford all this.”

“All right, but Yugi gets to approve the person covering for me at the shop.”

“Done.”

“One other thing. Why didn’t you just paint a portrait of me? You could get me to do anything you wanted then.”

“Look at Kaiba. Can’t you see that there are certain … limitations … to this method? I can tell him what to do, but—”

Atem regarded Seto. As he was, he couldn’t function; he had no will. “He can’t think, or—”

“He has no will or initiative in this state. He’s attenuated. In some ways, he’s useless. This process has removed some of his best qualities. That’s why I don’t dare control him continuously.” Dartz smiled. “But it is kind of nice to have him quiet so that we can talk.”

Atem scowled. _How dare he!_ “You have me, so why don’t you let him go already?”

“Not quite yet. We’re working out the details. Let your cousin know about your new job with me, but I don’t want you to tell him every little thing about it—Kaiba either. Our work is secret. And another thing. I know you’re planning on figuring out every little thing and undoing everything I’ve set up.”

“And?”

“You might change your mind about it when you learn how much you can do.”

“I doubt it.” _You’re taking a risk … I hope_ , Atem added in his mind.

“We’ll see about that.” He walked back around the glass panel to the violet vision of Seto. “Kaiba Seto, I release you. Return,” he said.

The violet mist dispersed and Atem felt the wrist within his hand move—he’d forgotten that he was still holding it.

“Atem, could you let go? My hand’s falling asleep,” Seto said softly. His eyes were slowly coming back into focus, but he seemed a little confused.

“Are you all right?” Atem asked.

“I feel like … I was daydreaming again about Dartz calling me. Here?!” He looked around, spotting Dartz.

“Let Atem tell you about it,” Dartz said. “Our meeting is concluded, so I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

“Nothing has been decided!” Seto began, but Atem placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from stepping forward.

“We’ve come to an agreement. It’s all right.”

“I’ll have my assistant call you with full details,” said Dartz, leading them out into the large hall.

“Details about what?” asked Seto.

Jounouchi and Honda were groaning, waking up. “What happened?” asked Honda, rubbing his eyes.

“Some help you are!” Seto said. “Give me your number. Next time I need a doorstop, I’m calling you!” He marched straight over to the elevator and pressed the down button.

“Don’t mind him,” said Atem. “Things didn’t go the way he wanted, either.”

“Did they go all right for you?” asked Jounouchi.

“If I was job-hunting … but, no, I didn’t get what I wanted, but I’m working on it.”

The trip back was a little tense. Atem had to give a capsule summary of what they’d found out and Seto had not been pleased at all to learn about Atem’s decision.

“I don’t want you involved with him at all!” he said.

“But there won’t be a painting,” he said, meaning, _I won’t be controlled by him_ , but not wanting to say it so bluntly in front of the others.

“Like Isis,” Seto said tersely. Atem could tell he was annoyed that he had to speak in front of Atem’s friends. _He doesn’t feel like he can speak freely_ , Atem thought.

“I’ll find a way around that,” Atem insisted. “I won’t let him box me in like that.”

“You say that, but …”

With that, they finally arrived at Kame Game Shop. Atem told Jounouchi and Honda he’d join them inside in a minute. He wanted a minute alone with Seto.

Seto sighed. “I want to stay and talk to you about this,” he said, “but I need to get back. I have meetings, and my brother expects me.”

“I understand,” Atem said, feeling dissatisfied. “I know you don’t like this arrangement, but I don’t see any other way,” he said.

“I don’t like this … dragging you into this. This is my problem, not yours.”

“Don’t you get it? It’s too late. It’s already my problem.”

For a moment they sat staring at each other in awkward silence. Feeling an unbearable need to bridge the gap between them, Atem reached out and grabbed Seto’s hand. “I’ll call you. See me tonight—or tomorrow—as soon as you can manage. We need to talk things over, plan things. Whatever. I can’t stand leaving things the way they are.”

Seto gave his hand an answering squeeze and let go. Atem slid out of the limousine and watched it diminish into the distance with a pang of regret, although he couldn’t quite figure out why he felt that way.

**Author’s notes ...**

[Responding to many perceptive comments from readers, carried over] I agree, this Kaiba is less reserved than I would have him be based on canon and, frankly, I’ve had a bit of a hard time with him in this piece because of the situation I placed him in (ie, Atem basically meets Kaiba’s “essence” before meeting Kaiba). I’m sure he’s straying into OOC territory, although I’m trying to keep him as close as I can. :)

Yes, boys and girls, I do apologize for all the technobabble in this chapter, but I needed some sort of explanation for what was going on, and this wasn’t a typical haunting. ;) I hope you can bear with me! Here’s some of the info ... hey, some of this crap was actually thought out!

Quote: Dartz is more of an Aqua King than a Crimson King, but still ... ;)

_Atem’s backup_ : I figured it was inevitable that they’d insist on coming, but I really didn’t think Dartz would want them in on the meeting, so ... zap! Sorry, guys.

_Spooky action at a distance_ : A classic phrase used to describe effects in physics such as quantum entanglement.

_Even modern science has learned this fact_ (that “nothing can be truly destroyed”): This is a commonly-held belief in physics from what I understand. This is the basis of the notion that the information held within the matter that falls into a black hole (no longer in the universe _per se_ ) is “smeared” on its event horizon.

_this is no ordinary spectrum_ : Total hooey fabricated by my fevered brain.

_primitive cultures fear photography_ : Dartz is being a little biased in characterizing the cultures as “primitive,” but it’s true that some people initially objected to being photographed for spiritual reasons (some still do, apparently). From what I understand, photographs are sometimes used in sympathetic magic ... which is why I extended this line of thought to the painting. ;)


	8. Slogging Forward

_He's lost in the deepest enigma,_  
 _Which no one's unraveled today._  
“Portrait (He Knew)” ~ Kansas

When Atem laid out Dartz’ plan to Yugi, he received an earful.

“You mean I’m going to have to work with an agent of the enemy?!” he griped. “Thanks a lot, Atem.”

“You don’t have to work with anyone you don’t approve of. You have the final say and Dartz will send as many applicants as necessary.”

“Oh, I guess that makes it all better, then. Meanwhile, you’re his slave.”

“Not his slave, his apprentice. I’ll be getting a paycheck. Besides, the only reason I’m doing this at all is to help Seto.”

“He lays off as long as you help him? And how long do you do this? Forever?”

“Of course not! Only until I figure out how to undo this whole picture-trap thing.”

“Oh, forever it is, then.”

“Ye of little faith …”

“But, seriously, Atem, don’t you think this is a little dangerous? What if you start sneaking around and Dartz catches on to what you’re doing? You can’t even begin to imagine what he could do. I know you don’t care about yourself, but there’s Kaiba … and even us.”

“You’re right, but what choice do I have? I can’t leave Seto the way he is.”

“So it’s Seto now?” Yugi regarded Atem with eyes a-twinkle. “So you _can_ move things along when you’re motivated. I was beginning to wonder if you had it in you.”

“Oh, leave me alone! This whole situation is difficult enough without your teasing.”

“All right, but now that you’re dating, can you please let Anzu know? Don’t you think I’ve been waiting long enough? And now, I have the chance to console her!”

“Hm … aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Atem replied. “And you seem pretty unconcerned by the prospect of your love’s heartbreak! Besides, what dating?! Seto and I haven’t been out once yet!”

“You had dinner with him the other day … and weren’t you with him most of yesterday?”

“Talking over weirdness is a date? … And you call taking Jounouchi and Honda to confront Dartz a date? You have a strange definition of dating, my friend.”

“You took him to your room.”

Atem felt his cheeks burning, but nevertheless retorted, “To see the damn painting, what else! I only wish—”

“I know you do, Atem. I’m sorry, I’ll lay off. Just … do me a favor and let Anzu down easy, OK?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’ve been in denial, thinking she’s been seeing it as friendship like me. It’s way past time I should talk to her, but … I really thought she’d get it way before now.”

“Well, me too, but let’s face it, she’d rather believe that you’re coming around, you’re just shy.”

Atem snorted. “That’s right. I’m shy. But … Yugi, before Dartz sends along any spies, help me figure out how I want to do this.”

Yugi sighed. “Well, if you insist on walking into the dragon’s lair, you really ought to arm yourself as best you can. Is there anything that you get on him?”

“Hm, I don’t think it will be easy, but there might be one thing. That Isis kept offering to read for me—she even offered to do it privately. I think that might have been her way of hinting that Dartz didn’t have to know anything about it and that it might help.”

“Then you have to do it!”

“I wonder if I can do it without her brothers knowing anything about it,” Atem mused. “I think I’ll call her late tonight.”

“Good idea.”

Just then the bell for the door rang and they both looked up. A huge blond in black leather biker clothes was walking toward them. “Hi, my name is Raphael,” he said. “Dartz sent me. I’ve come to cover for Atem, if you approve.”

Yugi glanced at Atem and shrugged. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll give you a tryout. I’ll show you the ropes and if you don’t work out, I’ll send you back.” He nodded to Atem. “Do whatever you need to, Atem, just don’t take forever, OK? And you!” he said, turning back to Raphael, “just … don’t scare the customers.”

* * *

It felt awfully strange to Atem to have the morning to himself, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Dartz’ assistant called and his freedom was curtailed. But as long as he had the opportunity, he decided he would stop by KaibaCorp and see whether Seto could make time to see him. After all, they really hadn’t been able to talk over what had happened.

Seto met Atem in the lobby and suggested that they take a walk. “Would you like coffee?” he asked. “There’s a nice cafe a short distance from here and if you haven’t eaten breakfast, you can order anything you like. My treat.”

“That’s very nice of you,” Atem said, thinking of Yugi’s descriptions of their previous encounters as dates.

“Nice? You’re doing this for me unasked,” Seto said. “I still want you to change your decision.”

“I’m sorry, Seto, but I can’t. I can’t leave you the way you are. It’s inhuman. Besides, you’re not the only person he’s done this to. If I can help you, I can help the others and free Isis, too.”

“She’s helping him, so I can’t feel too sorry for her right now,” Seto growled.

“I’m going to be helping him myself … at least for a little while,” Atem pointed out.

“All the more reason to change your mind.”

“I need to learn enough to help you.”

They had arrived at the little cafe, which was indeed picturesque. Atem sighed. They paused their conversation as they settled in and got their coffee.

“What do you remember after Dartz—after he lowered that glass partition?” Atem asked.

“Not a lot until …” Seto frowned, concentrating, “you were agreeing to his terms. It seems like a strange time to do it, but I fell into a sort of daydream.”

“That wasn’t a coincidence, Seto.” Atem said, laying his hand on Seto’s.

“Then I …?” he continued with a little agitation.

“You what?”

Seto hesitated, finally lowering his eyes to his cup. “I kissed you?”

“On the forehead, yes. At Dartz’ request.” He didn’t want to say _command_.

Seto slid his hand out from under Atem’s and ran it over his own face, looking angry and embarrassed.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” Atem said.

“It’s not that, it’s …” Seto sighed. “I’m not his puppet.”

“Why do you think I’m intent on doing this? I can’t stand to see you treated that way! You’re—” Atem stopped himself, wondering whether he was more upset that Dartz was mistreating Seto or that, by controlling him, he was taking him away from Atem. _Oh, please let it be the former!_ he thought.

“That … it feels like a dream,” Seto murmured, rubbing his temple. “Annoying.”

“Seto, all that stuff he said—” Atem began when his cell rang with information about his new “job.” With Seto there, he was less anxious than ever to leave for it. Nevertheless, he said, “I’m sorry, Seto, I need to get going. I’m due at Paradise shortly.”

“I’d really rather be there with you. Can’t I outfit you with surveillance?”

“I think Dartz will check me over, and he’s likely to detect anything that you can put on me, including passive bugs.”

“I guess you’re right. Still.” Seto checked his watch. “Damn. I have a nine-thirty, so I need to leave myself if I’m going to prepare. Atem, I need to know everything. And, if it gets dangerous for you, I want you out of there. I can figure out something if I have to. I always have.”

Seto said goodbye and started back.

“Wait, Seto,” Atem said, getting up and catching up to the swiftly walking man, “could I ask a huge favor?”

“Go ahead.”

“Could you meet me at the Songbird tonight? Say, seven?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell you all about it.”

* * *

Atem drove to Paradise Unlimited with mixed feelings. He was anxious to get started and help Seto and the others, but he felt at a distinct disadvantage. The worst of it was that Dartz actually expected that he would eventually change his attitude.

“How could he actually think that?” Atem muttered as he entered the building. It wasn’t until after he’d already cleared security and was riding up in the elevator that it hit him. It was as though Dartz thought he knew more about Atem than Atem himself did, and that was aggravating.

Even more aggravating, he wasn’t going to the top floor, but the floor just below it. So he wasn’t trusted to go on the top floor? What a surprise.

The door slid open to reveal Dartz, smiling knowingly at him. “So? Ready to learn the secrets of the universe?”

_So smug …_

Atem resisted the urge to reach out from the elevator and see what expression Dartz would wear when Atem fastened his fingers around his neck in a vise’s grip. “As ready as I’m going to get,” he said.

“Come now,” Dartz said, ushering Atem through a beautifully-appointed but deserted lobby area into a hallway, “you can’t be doing this just to help Kaiba. Don’t tell me that you’re not the least bit curious about all this.”

“I’d be more curious if this ‘process’ were less complicated and limited,” Atem challenged. “Considering all the effort it takes to get control of your subjects, what control you have is considerably limited from what I can see … and it seems to me that the behavior of your subjects would be, well, subject to question. If you started working on heads of state, for example—”

“First of all, I hardly think that you really believe that what I showed you is all of what I can do! It’s a tiny fraction, and just my latest project … which is why I need an apprentice, by the way. Do you think my work on this particular process is complete? Do you think that I want help because I’m happy with what I’m doing? Far from it! In fact, I’m at a critical stage in my investigations.”

“And you think that recruiting an enemy is going to help you?”

“I think I can bring you around. I’ll consider giving you back your precious Kaiba if you can convince me that you really are interested. The world and Kaiba … I’d call that incentive.”

Atem glanced over, trying to determine whether he meant incentive for Atem or if Dartz could possibly have an interest in Seto for himself. He had bought him at the auction before he’d ever known about Atem, after all. But hadn’t that been because Seto was a powerful businessman with connections? Until now, he’d no idea how easy it was to feel jealousy—or how inevitable. Unable to detect anything from Dartz’ expression, Atem pushed these thoughts from his mind and said, “What do you mean, ‘the world’?”

“Wealth, power, but more importantly, control over the very forces of nature. I know it sounds fantastic, so I won’t go into detail. But isn’t what you’ve seen evidence enough of my abilities? I want you to feel incentive because it will take time to come up to speed even enough to help me, but you’ll need to study and see for yourself what you can achieve by working with me.” Dartz was watching him closely as he spoke. “Please understand that I’m offering you an opportunity that I’ve offered to no other person in the entire world. An opportunity that hasn’t been available for …” Dartz caught himself and fell silent as his eyes met Atem’s. Catching some spark in the depths of those mismatched eyes, Atem wondered, _For how long, Dartz?_

He forced himself to look around as he followed Dartz into a large room that looked a little like a laboratory.

“Everything you need can be found on the shelves, labeled. I’ve provided a desk and all the books that you’ll need.”

“A computer?”

“It’s not needed, not at this stage, and I certainly don’t intend granting you internet access while you’re here, at least not at first.” Dartz chuckled to himself. “Kaiba might be inflexible, but he’s also brilliant. We don’t need him butting into your studies.” Dartz tapped a paper on the desktop. “Consider this your outline. I’m setting you loose in a sort of self-study course, but I’ll be back later this week to see how you’re doing.”

“Uh, Dartz—”

“Yes?”

“You’re just leaving me on my own? To study?”

Dartz smiled and turned toward the door. “Don’t worry, I have faith in you. You have all sorts of incentive, after all.”

Once Atem was closed in, he looked around the room methodically. It was quite roomy, even for a laboratory setting, with large windows and plenty of natural light. The walls that didn’t consist of floor-to-ceiling windows were lined with large cabinets with glass doors. The cabinets were filled with all kinds of items, including jars of chemicals, mineral and rock samples, natural items such as shells and dried animals, mummy parts, gems, art findings, and even assorted game pieces. A large bookshelf stood near the desk, stuffed with books, many of which were handwritten, and some of which looked ancient. All of it was neatly arranged and marked. Atem scratched his head over the eclectic lot.

Atem pulled a book from the bookshelf at random and leafed into the middle. He didn’t recognize the language. Hell, he didn’t recognize the _alphabet_. He scowled. How did Dartz expect him to absorb all this sort of thing?

_Whatever_ , he thought, replacing the book and sitting down at the desk. Incentive, incentive. Dartz harped on it and he certainly wanted to figure out how to help Seto, but the prospect of all this heavy-duty study was daunting. If Dartz really wanted to provide additional incentive, couldn’t he be a little more specific? “Secrets of the universe?” That’s all well and good, but it would be better to have something practical to hang his hat on. But what really puzzled Atem was how Dartz pegged him as his guy. If he wanted someone to learn stuff, wouldn’t Seto be the logical choice? He seemed the brilliant, studious type, after all. And what was it with all these hints about Dartz’ age, anyway? Yesterday didn’t he say it took decades to grow that crystal? And today …

Whatever, it was no use trying to figure everything out right now. He looked at the syllabus, such as it was, and fished out a book. He cracked it open.

Just as he thought. Alchemy was just a fancy metaphysical marriage of philosophy and chemistry. The worst of both worlds.

_I really am going to have to think of a way to make Seto show his gratitude for this_ , Atem thought as he started to concentrate on the concepts.

“ _The physical universe is only part of the entire universe. The spiritual universe is always here, unseen about us. The ultimate purpose of alchemy is to access the entire universe including its spiritual dimension …”_

Atem leaned his head on his hand, trying to absorb the information.

“ _Every thing, even if nonliving, has a spiritual signature …”_

Atem’s thoughts began to drift. _Gratitude … like a kiss on the forehead?_ His thoughts wafted back to that moment as he thought how nice it would have been if Dartz hadn’t been involved. Seto’s hand had felt so warm on his cheek and his lips felt … Atem wondered idly how they might feel on his own lips.

He didn’t notice when his head slid down his arm and came to rest on the desk.

* * *

Atem woke from a very pleasant dream about an hour later, then cursed himself for having gotten nearly nothing accomplished.

Coffee would help.

He stood up and tested the door. It opened easily. Atem walked out, mildly surprised. He’d half expected to be locked in.

_Let’s see how far Dartz lets me explore._

Atem started by looking around for some sort of kitchenette with a coffeemaker. There certainly wasn’t one in the lab. _Maybe I should ask Dartz to install one_ , he thought. _It seems to have virtually everything else_.

Although … it didn’t seem to have a lot of the standard advanced lab equipment such as mass spectrometers.

“Hello, are you Atem?”

Atem turned to see a thin young man with dark red hair in a sort of bob cut. “Yes, who are you?”

“My name’s Amelda. Dartz told me you might be about. I’m to help you with anything you need.”

“Oh, are you an apprentice too?”

“Me? You’re kidding, right? Hardly! No aptitude. Dartz has been looking for you for a long time.”

“A long time, eh?” _Maybe that’s why he’s trying to coerce me into it_ , Atem thought. “OK, whatever, you can help me out by showing me where to get coffee.”

“Cool, an easy one. I’ll show you where the men’s room is too; I’m sure Dartz didn’t even bother showing you around.” Amelda led Atem to a break room not far off the lobby area and busied himself brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

“No doubt he figured I could find everything for myself. So what do you do?”

Amelda smiled to himself and said, “Odds and ends. Errands.”

Atem looked the guy over, wondering what he meant by that. Amelda wore leather pants, biker boots, a sleeveless t-shirt, and fingerless gloves. Still, he was awfully skinny for a guy who dressed tough. Atem tried to figure out from Amelda’s body language whether he was friendly or not and couldn’t quite come to a conclusion.

“Look, er, Atem, don’t bother trying to make friends with me,” Amelda said, as though reading his mind. “I’m just following Dartz’ orders. I’m going to play nice because Dartz ordered me to get along with you, but I know you’re not here because you’re loyal to him. He thinks you’re going to realize that coming around to his way of thinking is in your best interests. The way I figure it, my job is to keep an eye on you because Dartz is taking you for granted.”

“So you’re putting me on notice? Gee, it’s awfully nice of you to warn me.”

“I’m not sneaking around,” he said in a way that suggested that he wondered whether Atem might be the type to sneak around. “Today, anyway.”

“Well, Amelda, I certainly wasn’t hiding the fact that I was exploring just now, if that’s what you’re getting at. If I ever do decide to sneak around, I doubt if you’ll find out.” The coffeemaker beeped and he poured a cup. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s finish the tour.”

Atem trailed after Amelda as he pointed out the lobby again, two sets of washrooms, a couple of conference rooms, and a freight elevator in the back.

“What are the rest of the rooms?” asked Atem.

“There are other labs and some offices. Most of this floor isn’t currently in use. I have an office next to your lab, but I’m most often out on errands.”

“And today?”

“You’re my errand. Boring.”

“No problem. You can have the rest of the day off.”

“Funny. I’ll see you a little later on for lunch. I’m sure you don’t know any of the places around here anyway.”

_Yeah, like I’m looking forward to that_ , Atem thought sourly. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but the guy seemed to assume that Atem was out to subvert his boss. Well, of course he was right on target, but still. He disliked being on unfriendly terms like that.

Atem didn’t bother exploring much as the day wore on. There was Amelda, of course, and, besides, his earlier tour left him with the distinct impression that this floor was pretty innocuous—as befitted someone as untrusted as himself.

Armed with coffee, he buried himself in books. Soon he would be ready to start some alchemical experiments. _Ooh, exciting_.

“ _Each thing in the universe can be considered as casting a shadow in the unseen dimension. Living things cast larger shadows than nonliving things …”_

_Was all this written in allegorical language?_ Atem wondered. He took a long sip of coffee. _Yes, Grasshopper, the unseen dimension is a very boring place_. This was going to be a very long day.

* * *

The Songbird was an American-style eatery with entertainment who doubled as wait staff and busboys. Atem got a table and sat there a little nervously, hoping Seto wouldn’t be too late, especially since he’d dressed up for the occasion, with black leather pants, silver chains, the whole deal.

“You look great!”

Atem turned. “Hi, Anzu,” he said. “Thanks! You too.” Then he inwardly cringed because Anzu was just in her waitress’s uniform.

“Uh, thanks. Here to see the show?”

“You’ve been asking me to come around to see the show, so here I am.”

“Well, it’s about time! This is a great show to come for, too! We’re doing some great romantic songs tonight. What can I get you?”

“Uh, why don’t you bring me a Martini and …” he tried to think of something Seto might like, “a scotch on the rocks for my friend.”

Anzu hesitated a little and looked curious at the phrase, “my friend,” but let it pass, saying, “Make sure that you stick around for my number. I’ll be doing a dance routine to ‘Our Love Is Here to Stay’ with one of our waiters!”

“I won’t miss it. Uhn, Anzu, I need to tell you—” Atem began when something large and heavy clapped down onto his shoulder.

“Atem, please introduce me to your _friend_ ,” Seto said, leaning over Atem’s shoulder.

“Right, of course—”

“Wait, isn’t this—? You look just like—you’re the man in Atem’s painting!” Anzu choked out, red-faced.

“I’m sorry, Anzu,” Atem said, “I was trying to get to that. Yes, he is. Anzu, this is Kaiba Seto. Seto, this is Mazaki Anzu, one of my dearest friends.”

“Hello,” Seto said in a reserved tone, sitting down. Atem glanced at him and had to prevent himself from turning back to openly stare because Seto had arrived in a spotless white trench over a black ensemble that had the slightest sheen.

“Me too—I mean, pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Kaiba. Atem! How long—I mean, when did you—?” Anzu stammered.

“I met him only a few days ago,” admitted Atem. “Seto, is Scotch on the rocks acceptable?”

“Let’s change that to a vodka neat—if you keep your vodka sufficiently chilled.”

Leaving them with menus, Anzu scurried off, glancing back just before she entered the kitchen. Seto looked after her curiously, but if he had a question, he didn’t voice it.

“I wanted to come here to introduce you,” Atem explained. “I think she has a misconception about me, and … well, I hope you don’t mind if I let her see you dining with me.”

“It’s fine, Atem.”

For a few moments an awkward silence drew out between them. Atem stared at his menu blankly, trying to figure out just what it was that made it so difficult to speak naturally. After all, he’d spoken so easily to that painting, and that contained Seto’s essence … right?

Or was that the problem? They both now realized that Atem had seen Seto at a deeper level than anyone, by rights, should? It was as though he’d seen him naked without his permission … only, it wasn’t one-way like that. Even if Seto wanted to pursue something, he felt exposed, and a man like this …

Atem looked at Seto, wondering if it made things better or worse for them in the long run. Seto looked back, the slightest hint of color tinging his cheeks, making Atem wonder if he’d guessed what Atem was thinking.

“Seto … last time …” Atem began, but then stopped. What was he going to ask, anyway? Whether they were a couple or not? If the answer was no, could he face Dartz? Things were too painful and uncertain now.

But Atem’s search for the right words were interrupted by the arrival of their drinks. They ordered dinner, Atem hastily selecting the first acceptable item on the menu.

“Atem,” Seto said decisively when Anzu was again out of earshot, “Do you mind if we get to pressing matters? I really would like you to reconsider working with Dartz.”

“It’s not going to happen. I need to help—and not just you, Seto.” Atem thought over their confrontation. “All that stuff Dartz said about how his whole process worked, did it make any kind of sense to you?”

Seto sighed again. “Some of it. If you could get me some samples, say, of the pigments, or the crystal, I could have them tested and try to figure out what the actual physical properties of these things are. The crystal would be particularly helpful, I think.”

“I don’t want to take samples from the painting I have. I’ll have to try taking it from his studio.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re sure you’re not willing to take samples from your painting?”

“I won’t hear of it. I don’t want to risk damaging the integrity of it.” The thought of it, potentially harming Seto …

“I think you’re being unnecessarily cautious.”

“I’m not changing my mind about this.”

He sighed. “All right then. How about this then? Destroy the Oracle crystal. I should have thought of that in the first place.”

“There are a couple of issues with that. First, I need to know whether that will free you up from the painting, which I somehow doubt, and secondly, I don’t know if I can get access to the crystal, at least not right away. That’s also a problem with getting samples.”

“If you can get me access to their computer system, I’ll get you in.”

Atem was a little surprised by Seto’s confidence, but then he guessed he shouldn’t have been. “I want to get more information before I risk something like that. Besides, I don’t have a computer right now.”

“No computer?” Seto sighed disgustedly. “What is wrong with these people? No matter, they must have computers somewhere in there. Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re actually doing there?”

Atem related the general activities of his day and as he did, realized exactly why he was feeling a little down. “It’s going to take forever to figure out how to free you by learning stuff his way,” he said.

“You just now figured this out?”

“No wonder he thinks I’m going to come around to his way of thinking,” Atem mused. “There’s all this philosophy mixed in, and if I figure out how to do lots of things … and he promises that eventually he’ll let you go if I come around …”

They stayed for the show, but Atem’s attention kept drifting.

* * *

Later, in his bedroom, Atem got ready for bed as usual and said, “Goodnight, Seto,” to the painting.

He pulled up the blankets and turned off the light. Several minutes after closing his eyes, he sat bolt upright and turned on the light.

“Seto?”

Something was very different about the portrait now. The pharaoh was standing in his original position, with one hand on the railing and an intense expression … but there was something distinctly missing now.

Slowly, Atem stood and walked toward the painting and stood before it, as though to examine every brushstroke.

“Did I forget to tell you what a really nice time I had with the real you tonight?” he asked. “It felt awkward, but it’s still good to …”

The painting didn’t change at all. Suddenly Atem gripped the frame with both hands. Why hadn’t he realized right away?!

The painting no longer had that overwhelming sense of _presence_.

Atem let go, backed up, and sat on his bed. He sat staring at the painting. So Dartz really had come through on his promise. Already.

This was a good thing, right?

Why, then, did he feel this strange emptiness?

He sighed. _I’m just too used to having it around_ , he thought. It was almost like having a real person around, it was so … _there_.

“I’m just going to have to get used to having you around less, Seto,” he murmured as he crawled back under the blankets. He just didn’t feel like talking to the painting so much now that it didn’t have that sense to it. He smiled ruefully. “Sweet dreams.” At least Seto would be able to sleep more peacefully. He wondered if he would be able to.

* * *

Atem suddenly awoke and looked toward his alarm clock. It read 2:23. Atem sighed and glanced toward the dark shape of his painting. He still sensed no intelligence there.

He wondered if there was any consciousness left there at all. Dartz had said something about minimizing the effects, which probably meant there was something left … still …

He sighed. He needed to help Seto as quickly as possible.

He reached for his cell.

“Who is this? Do you know what time it is?” came a sleep-fuzzed voice over the speaker.

“It’s Motou Atem, Isis,” Atem said, “And it’s after two a.m. I’m sorry to call you so early, but I don’t want your brothers to overhear.”

“I understand.”

“I’ve decided to take you up on your offer of a reading, if that’s all right.”

“Excellent! Good timing, too. My brothers will be out of town on business.”

“They’re in business together?”

“Sort of. Rishid assists Malik. He’s a performer; telepathy and mentalism.”

Atem chuckled. “A related field?”

“I suppose some might say that. In any case, shall I make an appointment? They’re leaving this Thursday.”

“Great! That’s the day after tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to do it at my studio.”

“And we shouldn’t do it at my apartment.” _Too many eyes_ , he thought. “I can’t do the Kame Game Shop unless it’s after hours …” he mused.

“That would work.”

“You’d do that? Then Thursday at nine? I’ll arrange with Yugi to make sure that our new help is out of the shop. It’s fine if Yugi is around. Do you know where that is?”

“Of course. Now, good night.”

“Right. Good night.”

Atem found it was a lot easier to sleep after that.

**Author’s notes ...**

I'm going to replace my original thanks to reviewers with some thanks to folks who've recently added kudos to this and other stories of mine here at AO3. It's very encouraging! I know I've been very slow with my current stories, but, honest, I'm trying to do something about that soon. Here are a few responses to comments from readers carried over from the original posting. :) 

Review comments: Dartz is one of my favorites as well and doesn’t show up too much in fanfic, does he? Perhaps that’s because he’s a little bit challenging. Anyway, I hope that I can do him justice (fingers crossed). I’m glad that the response to him seems to be positive. :)

About Kaiba’s “shyness.” In the previous chapter, despite his feelings for Atem, and even though he’s under Dartz’ control, he feels a certain amount of rebellion - nor do I feel that he’d want to put on a “show” in front of Dartz. Therefore, he interprets the command so that he can obey while giving Dartz as little satisfaction as he could. Dartz interprets this as “shyness.”

Oh, man, I feel like I need to discuss my own take on Kaiba, but I really don’t want to go into gory detail. Nutshell version: I see Kaiba as blunt to the point of rudeness and extremely assertive, of course, but (with the exception of anger, pride and such) emotionally inexpressive. This may differ from how other writers see him, but I feel I’m well-founded in canon and if you’re so inclined, you’re more than welcome to PM me [yeah, not so much in AO3, but leave a comment, for sure!] for a friendly exchange on this matter. :) For this story, Kaiba’s confronted with the awkward situation of a kind-of “inside-out” meeting with Atem (in which a piece of his more honest “inner self” is exposed to Atem in the form of the painting), so he’s closer to Atem from the get-go than he’d expect ... therefore awkwardness. It’s coming out as a kind of push/pull in the story and I’m not sure how authentic it’s turning out to be. I only hope it’s true enough to the characters to please. :) (Gee, I feel like apologizing for bringing this up at all!)

Finally, perhaps I should warn in advance that the rating of this story is _not_ likely to go up. I hope that’s not too disappointing! Although I have written around the edges of such scenes in the past, I’m not sure I can handle going any farther. However, I _can_ promise you more romance coming up. I guess you could say I’m more _shounen ai_ than _yaoi_ , actually ... [again, comment is carried over.]

_Yes, Grasshopper_ : Geez, could the allusion be more out-of-date or second-hand ( _Kung Fu_ , sheesh)?

_Our Love Is Here to Stay_ : A classic Gershwin love song about eternal love, featured in _An American in Paris_ (Kelly/Caron song and dance).


	9. The Strength of Invisible Chains

_And I draw a line_  
 _To your heart today_  
 _To heart from mine;_  
 _A line to keep us safe._  
“One Line” ~ PJ Harvey

Atem awoke early the next morning and immediately looked over toward the portrait. Catching sight of the blue-clad figure, he sighed with relief and got up.

It was only when he was standing in the shower that he realized that he had been making sure it was still there. Previously, he just knew it was there without looking at it or not.

Atem quickly toweled off and with a towel wrapped around his waist, walked back into the bedroom and over to the painting. Once again he placed his hands on the frame, but this time he closed his eyes and leaned in as though listening, not knowing exactly what he expected to find.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he stood like that, standing like a fool next to his painting as though he could somehow see it with his eyes closed, but eventually he began to relax. And as he relaxed, he gradually began to become aware of a strange sensation that he was falling into the painting, as though it were some sort of doorway into a vast space. And if he could look into that vast space, somewhere, far away … yes, there …

… if he let go of the frame, surely he would fall in, and fall through that vast space, endlessly, until he found Seto, the source of that irresistible gravitational pull.

Swaying backward, but still holding onto the frame for balance, Atem opened his eyes and blinked several times hard to dispel the lingering sense of vertigo. “Seto …” he breathed, wondering how Dartz had accomplished this strange change. The presence was still there, but receded … receded in a way such that Atem felt he could tumble right into the painting after it. Just when he thought he was used to the weirdness, it found new ways to manifest.

Atem dressed slowly, thinking all of this over. What was he going to do when all of this was over with and the painting was completely normal?

“I guess I’ll just have to convince Seto to be mine,” he muttered. Whatever magic there was in the painting, Atem was pretty sure that undoing it wouldn’t take things back to the way they were before he had bought the painting.

His desire for Seto surprised and overwhelmed him … and was growing.

* * *

Atem managed to get to Paradise, but not without navigating a call from Anzu first. Her curiosity about Seto was only matched by how disconcerted she was over not being in on the news of his new job. He now expected to see her sometime over the course of the day.

He certainly didn’t want to have any of these discussions over the phone. No use multiplying the number of his misunderstandings with Anzu.

Atem got his coffee and settled in without catching sight of Amelda. He didn’t even seem to be in his office yet.

After studying quite some time and working on some of the experiments described in the book he was working on, he began looking through the bookshelves systematically for something that could help them. To his consternation, there were a fair number of volumes in foreign languages he didn’t understand and he couldn’t help but wonder if Seto could read any of them. (He wouldn’t be surprised.) Anything he thought might be promising he sorted to one end.

Close to noon, Atem answered his cell and hurried down to meet Anzu in front of the building. “Do you want to take a walk?” he asked. “Or have lunch?”

“Let’s just walk for a while,” Anzu said. She took his hand, making him feel quite awkward. “So why aren’t you at the game shop? Can Yugi handle it by himself?”

“He’s actually got help,” Atem said self-consciously. “This whole thing is something I kind of got pulled into temporarily.”

“What’s it all about?”

“It’s a really long story. I’m not sure I can tell you the whole thing over lunch, but …”

“Does it have to do with that fellow? Kaiba, did you say?”

“Oh. Kaiba, yes. Yes, I suppose it does.”

“You’re helping him out. Of course. You always do things like that.” There was a surge of relief in her voice.

“Um, I suppose I do. But, Anzu, you should know something about him,” Atem hurried to say in an effort to caution her.

“What about him? Is he a womanizer? He certainly was dressed up!”

“Oh … uh, Anzu, it’s not like that.” Atem could feel himself starting to turn red and cursed inwardly.

Her eyes widened. “Then … oh! Is he making a move on you? Do you need my help?”

Atem doubled over trying to smother a burst of laughter and ended up having a coughing fit. Anzu wound up patting him on the back and inquiring over and over whether he was all right.

“Anzu, the thing you need to know about him is, well … if he made a move on me, as you put it, it would be—” he sighed, “I might as well admit it. It would be welcome. It would be nice to think that he dressed up for me, Anzu.”

“Then …” Shock, devastation, then mortification flashed across her cute features in swift succession. “Then … was that … a … a … date?”

“Well, not a date, exactly, we’re trying to resolve a problem involving that painting—”

“The long story.”

“Right. We have that, but eventually … yeah, Anzu, I hope we can be together. I suppose I should have told you. I always figured we were good friends, but lately Jounouchi has been saying we were more than that, and …”

“We’re friends! Whatever gave you the idea we were more—?” she said a little too brightly.

“My mistake! I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have the wrong impression! … Oh, here’s the little café I was telling you about. Ready for lunch?”

“Uh, Atem? I don’t think I’m very hungry after all.”

“You sure? Because it’s my treat.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, turning and hastening off. Atem watched her hurry off, pulling out her cell as she did so. He was pretty sure he heard “Hey, Yugi?” as she rounded the corner.

He sighed in relief and sat down at an outdoor table in the shade. Yugi would make sure she didn’t take things too hard. He only hoped that his own relationship with Anzu wouldn’t be strained for long.

* * *

When Atem got to the Kame Game Shop around eight pm, he found Anzu there huddled at the back table with Yugi.

“Hey, Atem,” Yugi said. “I sent Raphael home early.”

“Great. Anzu, I thought you had work tonight.”

“I took tonight off. I decided I needed to catch up with Yugi.”

“Speaking of that, Anzu,” said Yugi, “Atem is meeting someone here tonight. Do you want to go out for a while?”

“Oh, is …?” Anzu, blushing, bent down and whispered into Yugi’s ear as they walked past.

“No, no, this is someone you haven’t met. A lady named Isis. I’ll tell you about it. It’s OK, isn’t it, Atem?”

“Go ahead,” he shrugged.

“Just a minute …” Yugi said, and ran over to Atem.

“Do you need me to look over the books or anything?”

“No, actually Raphael’s doing a great job so far. This is about Anzu.”

“Was I too rough on her?”

Yugi smiled. “Just rough enough. We’re having a good heart-to-heart. She can’t understand how she didn’t see this all along. She’s been asking me if she’s been a horrible friend to you.”

Atem sighed. “She would. Reassure her that she’s been fine. Just … I’m not boyfriend material—uh, for her, that is.”

Yugi laughed and winked. “Lucky for me.”

“Yeah, well, I hope your luck holds out then. Um, Yugi, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“The painting.”

“Of the pharaoh?”

“How many weird paintings do I have hanging around my house?! Of course that one! Did you … I mean … have you ever noticed it moving or …”

“I didn’t notice that it changed position or anything like that, but I believe you when you say it did. But … that presence thing you were telling me about? Not really. It is creepy, though. I get the feeling it’s staring at me.”

“Are you sure that’s not the same thing?”

“Staring isn’t personality, Atem. I think this is definitely a ‘just you’ thing.”

“I’m not sure whether to be happy about that or not,” Atem said thoughtfully, then added, “Wait. Seto is _not_ creepy! Oh well, you two have fun. See you later.”

“Thanks. Have a good reading or whatever.”

Yugi watched the two leave, then amused himself with some game demos while he waited.

When the appointed time approached, there came a knock at the door, and Atem walked through the darkened front area of the store and opened the door. “Hello, Isis.”

“Hello, Atem. Are you ready?”

“Very.”

Atem showed her the game table in the back of the store where they sat in a little pool of light. Isis produced a large deck of cards and said, “These cards are a little like Tarot. They have the same roots and a very long history that goes back into Egypt.”

“So what’s the drill?”

“I shuffle just a little,” she said, shuffling, “while clearing my mind.” For a moment, she shuffled silently, then placed the deck on the table. Taking Atem’s hands in hers, she placed them on the deck. “Calm your mind, then think on the circumstances of your most pressing problem.”

Atem tried to make his mind a blank and then stared at his hands. All he could think of at first was the last time he sat at this table with Seto across from him. They’d talked about Dartz …

He closed his eyes for a moment, then lifted his hands and looked at Isis.

“Good.” She cut the cards and dealt them face down in a pattern. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“All right,” she said and turned up the card in the center of the tableau. “This card represents you.”

The picture on the card was a man with a crown, brandishing a large staff. Before him was a table upon which was laid out several items with various symbols.

“Naturally,” commented Isis. “The King of Magic. It’s very rare for this to come up as the significator.”

“Why is that?” Atem said, thinking it ought to be a simple matter of percentages. “Shouldn’t it be … how many cards are in your deck?”

Isis chuckled. “Honestly, I didn’t expect you to sound like Kaiba. Very few people have the qualities represented by this card, Atem, such as resourcefulness, spiritual depth, an expert skill over the forces of nature …”

“Tch! I have none of that!”

“For you, it’s innate. You haven’t been called upon to exercise your skill … except in matters of reading people. Don’t tell me that you have no ability there.”

“That … That’s …” he sputtered. It was just a matter of observation. Yet it was still a skill. He sighed. “Go on.”

“Good. The first sequence of cards deals with the past.”

The next card she turned up showed a very long road leading into a desert with a sunset in the background.

“Ah, The Long Road!” she said. “In this position, a distant past is indicated. This tells you something about a previous lifetime.”

“Did Se—Kaiba get this card?” Atem blurted.

Isis stared at him, her eyes wide. “I can’t divulge the details of a private reading,” she said. “You’ll have to ask Kaiba about that.”

However, her expression told him that Kaiba _did_ get the card. “Turn over the next one,” Atem said, hardly daring to breathe.

The next card was another crowned man holding a sword. The clothing of this man was more ancient, not quite Egyptian, but reminiscent of pharaonic dress. His headdress wasn’t Egyptian at all; it looked positively South American, adorned with blue and gold feathers. In the background was a castle of some kind with more symbols drawn upon it. The sky was filled with torn clouds.

Isis sighed and nodded. “The King of Feathers, the suit emblematic of Air. This represents a powerful man of intellect and drive; someone who dares much. In combination with the previous card, it means that the person this card represents was a significant force in your previous life and is a factor in your current life.”

“Kaiba?”

“That is my interpretation. Since the last card indicated a person, this next card should tell us something about your relationship with that person.” She turned up the card. “Two of Vessels, the suit of Water,” she said, laying down a card which showed a couple holding goblets of wine before a pastoral scene. “A card representing a deep bond, typically marriage.”

“Are you saying that we were a married couple in a previous life?” Atem tried to imagine Seto or himself as female and couldn’t quite picture it.

“Not necessarily, the relationship might well have been platonic. This card simply tells us that the bond is strong. This might explain why you felt compelled to buy the painting in the first place.”

_If Seto received a similar reading_ , Atem thought, _Dartz might have seen to it that the painting was placed in Pegasus’ shop as bait. Could Dartz really have gathered enough information about me from Seto’s reading to plan that?_

“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said. “Go on.”

Isis turned up a few more cards filling out past influences. “The next sequence of cards deals with your present situation,” she said, turning up a card. “The Wise Man.”

“What’s that?” asked Atem, examining the card. It depicted an old man looking into a crystal ball that he held up to the light. Behind him stood a bookshelf filled with books and other varied items representing nature, science, and art.

“It often indicates a person or source of knowledge. If a person, the person is very knowledgeable or wise. He might be a teacher.”

“Dartz.”

“Very likely. The card’s placement indicates that he plays an important role in your current situation.”

“Any hint as to how I get out of my current situation?”

“Next card,” Isis said. “Hm, The Hourglass.”

“What does that mean?”

She sighed. “There are several possible interpretations, all having to do with time. It could mean that this man indicated by the previous card is aged or somehow concerned with time—”

“What do you mean, ‘concerned with time’?”

“It could indicate a watchmaker or someone under a deadline. It could also indicate that you must be patient concerning this person or your situation, or that time is running out for you to remedy your situation.”

“I don’t like the sound of that! Do you really think it might mean that?”

“I don’t think so given the other cards, but I can’t completely rule it out.” Isis flipped the next card and raised an eyebrow. “The Diadem. Interesting. Given its position, this card relates to the person indicted by The Wise Man. It can represent great power and confidence, but it can also represent hubris.”

“Hubris? What do you mean?”

“Overreaching. Overconfidence. Underestimating one’s opponents.”

“That might be the only sliver of hope you’ve offered. But you say it can just mean power and confidence?”

“That is a possible reading. We have to see if the other cards lend support one way or the other.”

“Great. Another equivocal card. No wonder we don’t all run our lives this way.”

“Our future isn’t set in stone, Atem. We should be grateful that we’ve been granted free will, shouldn’t we?”

“So that we have only ourselves to blame when things screw up?”

“So that we have the chance to shape our destiny.”

“So what’s the use of this exercise?”

Isis smiled. “This? I see it as a guide. It helps you sort out the possibilities and focus. If you want specifics, you’ll need to speak to a higher power than me.”

“Well, can your cards at least give me some idea of my chances?”

Isis smiled. “The last sequence tells you about the future of the problem that is on your mind. The possibility of a favorable outcome is one of the main things we’ll be looking for.”

“Let’s look at the cards, then.”

Isis turned up a card and Atem said, “That looks like The Hanged Man.”

“You know a little about Tarot cards?” Isis asked.

“A little.”

“Then perhaps you know that this represents a situation in which one feels bound. Trapped.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“It represents your attitude toward your current situation.”

“I’ll say. Go on.”

“We move to the future sequence.”

“But if the future is, as you say, in my hands?”

“It’s a guideline.”

Isis turned up the next card. Depicted was a small unit of soldiers riding toward battle, brandishing bows with flaming arrows. “Ten Flames. This often means aid. I would advise you not to try to do this alone.”

Atem looked from the card to Isis’ eyes.

“You were thinking about keeping him out of it, weren’t you?”

“Dartz is so dangerous that—”

“You can use all the help you can get, isn’t that right?” Isis said evenly, turning over the next card. “The Ruined Fortress. If you don’t watch out, all your plans are going to fall apart. Just like this castle.”

There were two cards remaining. Isis turned up the next card. “Temptation,” she said. Was that a trace of reluctance in her voice?

“What does it mean?” Atem asked, breathless. “Temptation?”

“Just that. It’s pretty straightforward. There’s a source of temptation in your current situation.”

Atem found himself clutching the arms of the chair he was sitting in, staring at the cards as though he could make them speak aloud, screaming their secrets into the quiet room. Could Dartz actually be correct? Could what he offered become attractive to him? Could he become his own worst foe? He couldn’t imagine wanting to stick with it, but could he afford to ignore the warning? He forced himself to ask for the next card to be revealed. “Next.”

Isis turned over the final card. “The Magician.” She sighed heavily. “This indicates that you might be tempted by the offer of knowledge; not ordinary knowledge, but the kind that allows you control over nature or man.”

“The kind that Dartz can offer me.”

“Yes, that.”

“The Magician and the King of Magic aren’t the same?”

“No. There is a Magic suit in this deck. The Magician is part of the greater arcana, just as it is in the Tarot.”

“I see,” Atem said uncertainly.

“But understand that this card does not indicate an outcome; it’s tempered by the Temptation card. Even if this card stood alone, it wouldn’t be set in stone. With the Temptation card, it warns that you will be sorely tempted to turn in that direction. I wish that things were more optimistic than this, but there is a quite a bit of hope in this spread.”

“I understand. Thank you so much for the reading, Isis.”

Isis was looking at the layout and scribbling on a pad. “I’ll send you a full report on this.” She tucked the pad away and gathered her cards together.

“It’s really not necessary,” Atem said.

“And there won’t be any charge. If everything works out, you’ll have done me a great service.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Atem … the hope I have now? Even if nothing comes from it, no matter how few, any rays of light are welcome in the darkness. Thank you, Atem.”

“Isis. I promise, I won’t let you down. I won’t let him get to me.”

“Good. And good luck, Atem.”

* * *

Atem entered his room and looked longingly at the portrait. He knew he should be glad that Seto’s consciousness was all but gone from it, but the fact was that he sorely missed his presence. Having Seto’s presence there was comforting and he’d become used to it so quickly.

No, not used to it … reliant on it.

After he got into bed, he picked up his cell from the bedside table. He stared at it for a little while, then placed it back on the table.

If he called Seto, what would he say to him? That he couldn’t take staying alone in his own room one more minute without _his_ spirit haunting that painting? God, that was stupid.

He turned out the light and buried his face in his pillow.

_Shit. I need him._

At that moment his cell rang. Atem rolled over and grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Atem. Come see me now.”

“Seto—Why …?”

“Things are … Never mind. It was an impulse. Forget I called.”

“No, this is important. It’s just not the same, is it?”

Silence spun out for a few moments, then finally, “It’s not.”

Atem smiled. “I need to see you. Is it OK? I wanted to call, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

“What are you talking about? You’re in this too, and—”

“But for me it’s just that I got used to having you around—so to speak—so it’s kind of lame to just call you up and demand to see you.”

“Didn’t I call you?” A hint of indignation entered Seto’s voice. “Are you saying I’m lame?”

“Seto, it’s different for you. Part of your soul is still stuck in my bedroom, whether you’re fully aware of it or not. I just miss you.”

“Whatever. Do you want me to send a car around?”

“No, it’ll be quicker if I come to you.”

After getting the address and brief directions, Atem quickly dressed and jumped into his car.

* * *

Atem didn’t quite know what he expected. Seto’s home was large and intimidating—certainly that wasn’t unexpected. When he rang the bell, Seto opened the door himself, very quickly, almost as though he’d been waiting nearby. Atem was a little surprised by this, wouldn’t Seto have a butler or something? But then, it was very late.

“Seto,” he breathed, and, unable to control himself, found himself wrapped around him in the dim hallway, not exactly sure how he got that way. Seto seemed stunned by his impulsive act, but allowed it, gradually relaxing and placing his hands gently on Atem’s arms. “Atem,” he murmured at last, “We should move out of the doorway at least.”

“I’m sorry, Seto,” Atem said, unable to release the hug, “I don’t know what’s come over me. I just—”

“Nii-sama, who’s at the door so … late …?”

Atem looked over to see a boy staring at him with huge violet-gray eyes. He was positive his face must have turned three shades of purple as he let go of Seto abruptly and looked into his face. Yes, that rose was back along Seto’s cheeks, making Atem want to renew the embrace. He made himself look back at the boy. _Nii-sama_ … this had to be the brother. Mokuba.

For a moment they simply stared at each other, then Seto finally said, “This is Atem. Atem, this is my brother Mokuba.”

“Atem? You haven’t even said anything about him, Nii-sama!” Mokuba accused, then his face lit up. “Oh! Is he—!”

“Mokuba. It’s late. Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“But …” A thousand questions filled Mokuba’s eyes.

“You need to get your rest, Mokuba. Go back to bed. We’ll discuss this later.”

“OK, Nii-sama,” Mokuba said in disappointed tones and drooped off down a hallway. Atem had a hard time holding back his laughter as he followed Seto into a nearby room that looked like a parlor or greeting room of some kind. Seto didn’t bother turning up the lights, leaving them in near darkness.

“Have a heart!” Atem said softly.

“Atem, I spoil that kid enough as it is.”

Seto sat down in a comfortable-looking sectional sofa, and Atem nestled in beside him, leaning on his shoulder. Almost immediately, he renewed his embrace. “You haven’t told him about me?”

“No. What was I supposed to say? That I met you because of the evil portrait he roped me into posing for? I don’t even know what you _are_ to me exactly. No matter how I look at it, it’s awkward.”

“And Dartz?”

Seto sighed. “I don’t tell my brother about every strange dream that I have. And that’s all it’s been until recently. I know I need to talk to him about it, but I’d like to have a better idea of just what _it_ is first.”

“Seto, I’m not sure that we’ll have this figured out anytime soon. Just this once, would it be OK for you to tell him you don’t know?”

Even in the dim light, Atem could tell Seto looked pained. “I’ve promised him that I wouldn’t lie to him, so I guess I’ll have to. If I can’t hide it, I have to tell him the truth as best I can.”

Atem chuckled. “That’s your solution? Hiding things?”

“Atem, he’s five years younger than I am. I’m his guardian now. I grew up quickly so that he doesn’t have to. I’m not going to tell him about every little spurious threat that I get via email; it would worry him for no reason. But this is different; it doesn’t look like it’s going to blow over anytime soon. And you …” Atem could feel Seto’s penetrating gaze in the darkness. “So I guess I can’t postpone talking to him about it any longer. I just wish I understood it better.”

Atem looked at Seto with a new appreciation. Clearing his throat, he said, “About this … thing.”

“It’s awkward. I’m not used to this … attachment.”

“Neither am I … really, but I want to get used to it. At least like this.”

Seto looked down at him and brought his arms around Atem, drawing him in more tightly.

“Yes, definitely like this,” Atem confirmed.

“I still think this is strange,” Seto murmured, leaning in so that his lips grazed Atem’s hair. “We’ve barely seen each other.”

“It’s the weird circumstances. I know that you don’t trust people easily—”

“How do you know that?” Seto pulled back a little, looking at Atem.

Atem looked up into those dark eyes, so difficult to see in the dim light, and said, quite earnestly, “Because I know you, Seto. From the painting. And you know me. I know how peculiar all this is, but even if I don’t trust Dartz, I trust you.” He took Seto’s hand and pressed it against his own chest. “I trust this. What’s between us. This is real.”

“Yes …” Seto breathed, then, with a hint of worry, pulling his hand away, “then, your friends, can they … do they _know_ things about me too?”

“I don’t think so, not like me. I mean, I talked with Yugi about it and he just said that it felt like the eyes followed him around the room. He got a weird, creepy feeling from it. With me, it’s—”

“Dangerous.”

“I would say _deeper_. It’s like I’m communing with your spirit or something. It’s …” Atem was glad it was so dark because his cheeks were on fire. “Hell, don’t laugh, but I’d almost call it a sacred experience.”

“Don’t shit me.”

“No, I’m serious! I hope this doesn’t weird you out.”

“This is nothing in the weirdness category compared to what I’ve been through lately.”

“Seto …” Atem chuckled. “You’re not much of a romantic, are you?”

“I suppose I’ve worked to keep a clear head most of my life, and then there’s the fact that recently I feel … I’m always getting this feeling that I’m being watched.”

“I think right now it’s just a feeling, but we can’t know for sure. Anyway, tonight I don’t care. I’m just glad I could spend some time with you.”

“Me too.” Seto put his arms around Atem’s shoulders again and they sat like that for a few minutes, Atem resting his head on Seto’s shoulder.

“I suppose I should get going,” Atem said finally, with some reluctance.

“You should …” Seto echoed without moving.

“I need to get some rest so that I can get back tomorrow.” He stood slowly, Seto following.

“To Paradise,” Seto said with a little bitterness as he led the way back to the door. “Must you really work for him?”

“He’ll be coming to see how I’m doing, and I need to see what I can learn—”

“What—” Seto began, then caught himself. “Never mind. I want you to be careful.”

“I know you don’t like it, but I need to do this. I need to help you.”

They were now standing at the front entryway again, the unforgiving white light from the security lamps streaming in through the tall, narrow windows.

“And I …” Suddenly Seto pulled Atem in tightly, grasping his hair almost roughly, and kissed him. He would have let go, but Atem had thrown his arms around his shoulders, hanging onto him so that he could return his kiss with redoubled passion.

They remained locked within one another’s arms for some time, each kiss deeper than the last.

“Seto …” Atem breathed finally.

“Hn?”

“What about the feeling that you’re being watched?”

He shrugged. “So if they’re watching, let them eat their hearts out. It’s only a kiss.”

_Only a kiss, he says_ … “I’d better get going …”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay just a little longer?”

“I do, but that way I’ll never get home.”

“Hn. Oh. Did this help with the … problem? Do you feel better?” asked Seto.

“Huh?” _Problem? Help?_ Atem thought, a little dazed, then realized why he came in the first place. “Oh, right. Much, but I don’t know how I’ll feel tomorrow.”

“Does Dartz let you take any of those books out with you? You could sit in my office and read,” Seto offered.

“I’m not sure he’d go for that. He actually doesn’t want me to tell you anything about what I’m doing. Plus he doesn’t trust me very much right now.”

“Well, I’m often at the office late working … or you can drop by here. Just call first.”

Atem wasn’t sure he could handle Seto working, but he said, “I think I might just take you up on that.”

* * *

The next day, true to his word, Dartz stopped by to see how Atem was coming along.

Atem looked at Dartz, wondering whether he really could tempt him into changing his mind. _Why did I have to ask Isis to read for me?_ he thought miserably. _She said there was all kinds of hope there, but she made me doubt myself._

“What?” asked Dartz. “All I asked was how the studies went this week. You’re looking at me like I stole your last cookie.”

“Look, Dartz, I’ve been thinking. How do you expect me to learn all this in time do help you with anything. I mean … there seems to be a lifetime of information here.”

Dartz smiled. “It takes time, sure, but you can take all the time you need.”

“All the time—but if it takes—”

“Don’t worry about it. We have all the time in the world. How long do you think it took to grow the Oracle crystal?”

“You said decades, but …”

“I don’t look old enough for that? I’ll tell you this. It took centuries to build the body of knowledge that led to the creation of that crystal. Growing it took no time at all in comparison. And I’m personally responsible for all of it.”

“You’re … you said centuries.”

“What is the aim of alchemy, Atem?”

Atem stared at Dartz and murmured, “The control of the forces of nature themselves.”

“Exactly, Atem. The Philosopher’s Stone. The Elixir of Life. The holy grail of alchemy. I can make certain you have the time you need. Why do you think I sought you out in the first place? I know you well—I already know your talents and capabilities. Not everyone can become a master alchemist, you know. It takes a certain knack; a sort of magic, if you will. You need to be able to envision the invisible universe.”

Atem’s eyes widened, his own words coming back to him. _With me, it’s … deeper_. “And how the fuck do you know I can do that?!” he demanded.

“Because you exhibited that capability in your previous life, of course!”

Atem gaped at Dartz anew. “Are you …? You are, aren’t you? You’re serious!”

“Of course I am. Do you think I wouldn’t send delegates to Egypt of all places? To the pharaoh? Oh, or do you think your fantasy is just that, a fantasy? You were correct in your conviction, you know. And Seto?” Dartz smiled to himself. “That’s why I painted him like that. He resembles his former self so strongly that I wanted to paint the previous avatar that I remember so well. Besides, I knew if you ever saw it, you couldn’t help but be fascinated.”

“And why is that?” Atem asked, trying to sound conversational rather than desperate to know.

“Oh, I think I’ll save that story for another time,” Dartz teased.

“Or … you could just be snowing me.”

“You’re much too distrustful for your own good. Soon enough you’ll partake of the elixir yourself and you’ll see.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re thinking of _him_ again. I’m sure we can negotiate over that when the time comes. Until then, study hard!” Dartz turned, his tabard swinging out behind him, and strode out the door.

**Author’s notes ...**

I considered chopping this chapter in two, but it really works best as a unit, IMHO. I hope you agree.

_Isis’ deck_ : Yes, I considered using actual Tarot cards for this, but I didn’t want to risk switching the focus away from the dramatic import of the scene to a debate over the tableau and the interpretation of the cards. So I made up a fictional oracle deck for Isis to use. I have no problem with that, since there are plenty of different oracle decks available.


	10. Plan of Attack

 

_Somehow I lost touch_  
 _When you went out of sight_  
 _When you got lost into the city_  
 _Got lost into the night._  
“We Float” ~ PJ Harvey

The next Monday, Atem spent the morning reading, then he spent the afternoon floating a ball of mercury in an electromagnetic field. He had to admit that the experience was exciting and fascinating, but he didn’t think it got him much further toward figuring out a way to truly set Seto free.

Atem walked wearily to the elevator, his mind swimming with the information he’d consumed over the day. _If only I could speed up this process!_ he thought. He pressed the down button with a sigh.

When the doors slid open to reveal a figure standing inside, Atem was so surprised that he almost forgot to step in—both because he had never encountered an occupant in the elevator going down before, and also because of the unusual appearance of said occupant. The person standing there was almost as tall as Seto, but had long, straight, shiny pink hair, and a lavish, frilly suit to match.

“Hello, sir,” he said. “Are you posing for Dartz?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” said the man, with a flip of his colorful hair.

And as that brilliant hair flipped before his eyes, Atem noticed that a blob of pink paint had attached to the ends of a few strands.

“Pardon me, sir,” he said, stepping in behind the man, “but I’m an admirer of my employer’s talents.”

“Hmph.”

Trying to be inconspicuous, Atem quickly rifled through his pockets until his hands fell upon a small packet of tissues. That would have to do. He pulled one out and waited.

When the elevator slid to a stop, he purposefully stumbled forward against the man, simultaneously wiping the little blob of paint onto the tissue.

“Get off me!”

“Pardon me!” Atem exclaimed, letting the man go. He received a backward venomous glance as the man swished off. Atem smiled. The way that man flings his hair about, no wonder he caught some paint. Atem only hoped that Dartz hadn’t noticed.

He had been planning to stop by Seto’s office anyway, but now he had a perfect excuse. He headed toward his car with some excitement, trying not to hurry his steps too much.

* * *

“Motou Atem? Oh … Kaiba-sama isn’t in a meeting, so I have orders to allow you straight in, sir.”

“Thanks.”

Atem moved forward. The area in which Seto’s assistant sat was some sort of large waiting or lounge area filled with comfortable furniture. There was even a bar. Atem smiled at the posh surroundings and secured a soda from the bar.

Atem opened the door slowly and quietly so as not to disturb Seto while he was working, but then paused when he discovered that he was about to interrupt a conversation. As he was closing the door, he caught a scrap of conversation. “… Atem?”

Hearing his name, he paused, then heard Seto’s voice. “It’s been … hn, about a week and a half now.” A little bit of consternation slipped into his voice as he went on. “It seems a great deal longer than that.”

“Because of that picture?”

“That must be it.”

“Nii-sama?”

“What is it?”

“Is that why … never mind.”

“If you want to know something, go ahead and ask.”

“Is that why you let him hug you like that? I mean, that’s—it’s just plain weird.”

A pause. “You think so?”

“Uh … I didn’t mean it exactly like that. It’s just that you don’t let people do stuff like that.”

“I see. Hn.” There was another pause, then Seto said, “This is different.”

“Duh. I can see that. I want to know how it’s different.”

Yet another short pause. “I don’t know if I can describe it. It’s … complicated.”

“How complicated can it be? You know how you feel about him, don’t you?”

“I … I know how hard it is to be away from him … and how I was … but I’m not certain how much of it is because of that damn painting. We have to work out this thing with Dartz before I can think of anything else.”

“But—”

The strain he heard in Seto’s voice was beginning to make Atem feel anxious and guilty, so decided he should stop hovering and knocked on the door. Entering, he said, “Your assistant said to come on in.”

“Good,” said Seto. “I was just filling Mokuba in on what’s been going on. There are some things I need to talk to you about as well.”

“First, though, can I show you something?” Atem pulled out the tissue. “I managed to get a tiny sample of the paint. It was clinging to a man in the elevator and I didn’t have anything but this to put it on, so—”

“Pink?”

“Yes, this man had pink hair.”

“Pink hair? Sieg von Shraeder?”

“I don’t know who it was. But do you think that this is enough?”

“It will have to do. I’ve made do with less.”

Atem wondered what he was talking about for a second, but before he could ask, Seto had trimmed the excess material from the tissue, produced a small vial from his desk, and tucked the tissue inside. “This will be very helpful when we go in.”

“When we go in?” Atem asked, stunned.

“Of course, I’m going to have to study this stuff first, and it’s too bad we don’t have a sample of that crystal to examine, but, yes. I want to go in there as soon as we can.”

“Not that I want to drag this out, but won’t it take a while to investigate that sample?”

“It will take a little time, but I’m expediting it,” Seto said with a smirk. “Meanwhile, I looked into it, and discovered that Dartz does use ordinary, garden-variety computers to run his building and, more importantly, his security. It should be a snap for me to break in when the time comes.”

“But—”

“There are times when it’s useful to know a computer expert, right, Mokuba?”

Mokuba blushed a little and said, “Yeah, Nii-sama.”

Atem glanced over at the boy and wondered what scrape he might have been pulled out of, exactly.

“Of course, Mokuba’s no slouch himself. The other thing is that if we get in and up to the top floor, we probably won’t encounter much resistance.”

“And why is that?”

“I sent a man to hang out in the neighborhood around Paradise to pick up on the local gossip. From what he could pick up from the bars and restaurant chatter, virtually no one at the company is allowed on the top five floors of the building. Some people think that the whole upper section of the building is vacant. In any case, it seems that only a few people are aware that anything goes on up there and even fewer are allowed on those floors.”

Atem scowled. “But there doesn’t seem to be any security at all. I mean, you can punch in any floor into the elevator.”

“It might be that someone monitors the elevators, but only when a button to one of the top five floors is pressed. There’s so little traffic to the top floors, the threat can be evaluated and the elevator can be stopped if needed.”

“If that’s the case, how would we get you up there?”

Seto gave him another tight smile. “There are ways around that.” Seto handed his brother the vial and said, “Could you deliver this for analysis right away? Tell them that it’s the president’s request.”

“Sure thing, Nii-sama.” Mokuba scampered from the room.

“Your brother is really energetic,” Atem commented, looking after him.

“Yes.”

“Seto …” he sighed. “I guess you need to work.”

“Yes, I do.”

The two stood looking at each other for a long moment, then finally Seto said, “You’re welcome to stay and read or whatever.”

“Thanks, I think I will.” Atem silently cursed himself for forgetting to bring a book in his excitement, but spotted a deck of cards on the shelves in the conversation area and soon absorbed himself in various varieties of solitaire laid out on the coffee table.

Before long, Mokuba arrived bearing a pitcher of lemonade. Atem settled in quite comfortably with Seto quietly working in the background and Mokuba popping in and out.

Atem had planned on stopping by the game shop early, but ended up barely making it by closing time.

* * *

A few weeks passed by. For Atem, the days drifted past in a dizzying barrage of mind-bending information and practice. During his breaks he continued to browse through the bookshelves, searching for nuggets of valuable information. Some of the books were fascinating, but not terribly promising in his opinion, like the book labeled _Geomancy_ that he’d stumbled across. He’d decided to leaf through it for a few minutes on a whim and had to force himself to yank his head out of it a couple of hours later to return to his lessons.

Forcing his attention back on his alchemy book, he began to read about the electromagnetic effects that guide chemical reactions.

“ _Influence these effects and you can influence a reaction. The skilled practitioner can use these effects to control chemical reactions.”_

This was just one of hundreds of concepts that set his mind spinning. _“The human body is like a battery.” “Matter itself remembers.” “Each point in the universe has its own unique perspective.”_

Atem discovered that he was slowly learning the basics of material science, the study of elements and the basis of the transmutation of elements. _This is the foundation of alchemy_ , he thought. _The search for the Philosopher’s stone itself_. _That catalyst that transmutes lead into gold_.

Idly, as he studied the properties of elements, Atem wondered what other useful transmutations Dartz might have in his alchemical cookbook.

During the evenings, Atem tried to stay on top of how things were going at the game shop, but it wasn’t easy. He had an almost continuous strong urge to drop by KaibaCorp, and despite Seto’s open invitation, he still felt guilty and resisted the urge as much as he could lest he abuse the privilege and get in Seto’s way.

As far as the game shop was concerned, Yugi reported that Raphael had been working out surprisingly well, which almost disappointed him. On the other hand, Yugi and Anzu had become almost inseparable, and Atem saw her at the shop whenever she had a night off.

On the other hand, Anzu had already had a big discussion (or was it an argument?) with Jounouchi about how she didn’t actually break up with Atem. This led to several calls from Jounouchi asking what the hell was up. Atem had listened to the messages, but kept delaying responding to them. He wanted to be with Seto—really _with_ him—before he said anything about it. He was beginning to wonder whether he was superstitious.

Atem was taking his afternoon break one day when he heard a soft musical lilt—his new ring tone. Glad that he finally changed its tune, he pulled out his cell phone. “Hello.”

“Atem? It’s Seto. I have something to show you. If you have time, stop by KaibaCorp this afternoon.”

“I’ll come right over after work if it’s convenient,” Atem said.

“Good. I’ve cleared my schedule, so come right in. I’ll expect you.”

Atem smiled to himself and decided to get back to his studies. He was glad to have an excuse to stop by and see Seto.

The last couple of weeks when he’d given in and dropped by KaibaCorp, Atem had been slightly surprised to find Mokuba absent. Apparently Seto had sent him on a short business trip. Atem had wondered whether Mokuba’s absence was due to the fact that he was dropping by now or because Seto was reluctant to make commitments in his current state. Still, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to breach the subject.

This time, when Atem knocked softly on Seto’s office door, he entered, only to find the large desk manned by the younger Kaiba.

_Speak of the devil … or imp, in this case …_

“Hi, Atem,” he said, “I guess you’re looking for my brother, huh?”

“Well, yes, this is his office, isn’t it?”

“Right, right!” Mokuba said, hopping off of Seto’s large desk chair and coming around the desk. “I get back here and find out he sent me off so that he could push himself extra hard without having to listen to my nagging. He finally konked out a couple of hours ago. He didn’t have any more meetings on his schedule, so I canceled his training session and had Isono help me move him into the bedroom.” Mokuba moved off to the side, through the meeting area and toward a inconspicuous door in the rear. “If you have something that’s really important that you need to talk to him about, I guess it’ll be OK to wake him,” with this Mokuba opened the door, “but I’d really rather let him get some rest. He pushes himself as it is, but lately he’s been getting hardly any sleep at all.”

Atem peered into the room. It was really quite small and plain, just a bed and chair. The windows were covered by heavy drapes, so it was quite dark, but Atem could still make out Seto’s sleeping form on the bed. Even from this distance, Atem could see that his face looked uncharacteristically vulnerable in slumber, which tempted Atem sorely to join him.

He sighed and turned to Mokuba. “Could I stay for a little anyway?” he asked. If he just went home without being near Seto for a while, he knew that weird feeling would start becoming intolerable again.

Mokuba softly closed the door and said, “Sure. I want to talk to you a little, anyway.”

“Go ahead,” Atem said, sitting down in a chair in the conversation area. He felt slight trepidation at what Mokuba might ask.

Mokuba settled in opposite and said, “The reason he’s been stretching himself so thin is because of this Dartz business.”

“I’m sorry—” Atem began.

“Are you kidding?” Mokuba said, waving a hand. “None of this is your fault! I’m really glad you’re helping us with this.” He began to fidget a little, looking down and clutching at the fabric of his pants. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me—not that Seto’s said anything to me about it. But it was me who started all this.”

“Seto mentioned something about that …”

Mokuba colored. “Yeah, it was that stupid celebrity auction. It was for charity, and Seto never gets out socially, so … I thought maybe some nice girl—” Mokuba cast a quick, guilty glance in Atem’s direction, turning even redder, “—would buy an evening with him, but it turned out to be Dartz. I can’t believe that I wanted him to pose for that painting!” Mokuba exclaimed, releasing his pants to clutch handfuls of his thick mane of hair.

“Mokuba …” Atem said, leaning forward and patting him lightly on the shoulder, “how were you supposed to know what would happen? A painting is supposed to be harmless, right? … Right?”

“Y-yeah,” he said, relaxing a little. Then, suddenly, he looked up and blurted, “Are you my brother’s boyfriend? He wouldn’t say exactly.”

Atem smiled a little and said, “Well, we’re a little busy now trying to figure out this problem with Dartz. Did he describe it to you thoroughly?”

“Yeah. He didn’t tell me about the bad dreams. Not in the beginning.” Mokuba glanced at the closed door with what Atem thought was a hint of reproach. “But now he’s told me all about them and what it’s all about, best as he can figure it.”

“Good.”

“I’m glad you’re helping with this.”

“No problem. I’m glad that your brother decided to let me.”

“So … _are_ you his boyfriend?”

“You’re persistent.”

“It’s just the way you were looking at him just now.”

Atem hoped he wasn’t blushing, and said, “And how was that?”

“You kind of looked like he was the cutest thing you’d ever seen—Like we’d put a basketful of kittens in there or something.”

“No!”

“Puppies at the least. It was embarrassing. Really.”

Now Atem was sure he was blushing. Then, when he unexpectedly heard Seto ask, “Why didn’t you wake me?” he looked over his shoulder, cheeks aflame, hoping to hell that Seto hadn’t heard this last little exchange.

“Nii-sama! You’ve hardly gotten any sleep at all!” Mokuba protested. “You need some rest or your mental faculties will suffer. You know that.”

Seto waved it off impatiently, saying, “You know I have something important to show Atem,” then turned to the man in question. “Come. I think you’ll be interested in this.”

Seto led the way to the elevator with Atem and Mokuba in his wake. Soon they were on the fifth floor in the midst of a large number of laboratories.

“I don’t understand,” Atem said.

“You mean you thought we manufactured games?” Seto smiled. “You do realize that my father’s company was originally a weapons manufacturer, correct? When I sold off the weapons assets, I retained a few divisions: game theory, software development and electronic engineering along with some of the associated patents, and these labs. The labs are a bit of a luxury, but I was reluctant to let them go. We use these to analyze failures in hardware production and for materials development and testing. It’s not really enough work to justify the department, so we do subcontracting as well. But, I must say, it really came in handy for this situation.”

“This situation?” asked Atem. “You mean analyzing the paint?”

“Here we are,” said Seto. “Let me show you.”

Seto pulled out a card and put it up to a magnetic reader, then looked into a scanner. “Retinal scan,” explained Mokuba.

The lock popped open and the three entered. Atem looked around curiously. It looked very much the way he expected a lab to look, with lots of spic and span white surfaces and modern equipment—quite different from his own laboratory. Seto led him past some researchers to a bench in the back, where an experiment had been set up.

“I had an analysis done of the paint sample you secured for me,” Seto said. “That sample was invaluable. From that information, I created my own oil paint sample.” Seto pointed to a large tube of cerulean blue that sat behind a blob of paint in a petri dish.

“A commercial oil paint?”

“I don’t need to make the paint from scratch, only add the additional components,” Seto said, pointing to a jar marked _Dartz mixture #3_. “I chose a color rather than white so that it would be obvious where the paint was on the canvas.”

Seto started walking, leading them out of this lab and down the hallway. “The hard thing is to determine the composition of the crystal that produces the radiation that acts on this paint.”

“Isn’t that impossible?” asked Atem. “We don’t have a way of reproducing the radiation or getting a sample of the crystal.”

“What if I could find something similar?” Seto asked as he opened another security door. “Something like meteors containing aqua stones that have peculiar properties. With my connections, I was able to retrieve one of them.”

“Are you saying that this sort of thing is naturally-occurring?!”

“Not on this planet.”

Seto led them to a bench on which three small aqua stones were mounted on plastic stands plus another jar of paint. A large meteorite lay on a pallet nearby. Atem could see a couple more traces of aqua imbedded in the meteorite. “How did you get that?” he asked with a trace of wonder.

Seto shrugged. “While I was working on this, I had a thought and called a few of my contacts in the government who have access to certain information, such as strange phenomena connected to specific meteors. When these phenomena occurred, agents were sent in and the offending material removed for study and safe-keeping.”

“What kind of phenomena are you talking about?”

“Disappearances, items floating, apparitions … any number of unusual things. Actually, when the government agency collected these things, it didn’t know what to do with the samples and they ended up filed away in a corner somewhere gathering dust. I had no trouble securing a sample.”

“No trouble?”

“This stuff was collected years ago. They had no idea what they had then, and by now I’m sure interested parties have lost track of it. So we were fortunate.”

“But these things are remarkable!” Atem said.

“You haven’t seen what they can do,” Seto said. “But even if these stones are the same substance as the Oracle Stone we saw at the Paradise building, they’re small and contain a great many flaws. They wouldn’t do for Dartz’ purposes. Fortunately, I only want an idea of what their properties might be.”

“I wonder why Dartz didn’t procure these samples?” Atem mused. “Aren’t they a problem for him?”

“This was way before we were around. He had no security reason to bother collecting it way back then, and he doesn’t seem to care what research others do. I wouldn’t be surprised if he developed his version of the crystal independently. That’s the process he seemed to describe. I think we’re extremely lucky to have found something in nature that has any of these properties.”

“Perhaps you’re right; he doesn’t care. He seems to feel completely independent of others and considers himself to think along different lines from the rest of humanity.”

“What are you waiting for, Nii-sama? Show the mirror!” prompted Mokuba.

“You recall that Dartz demonstrated what the crystal did to white light.”

“Yes,” said Atem. “It created some sort of rainbow spectrum.”

“That’s right. Here, I’ll shine a beam of white light. Mokuba, could you turn off the ceiling lights for me?”

“OK!” Mokuba ran over to the door and hit the switch.

“Now, if I put up a mirror …” Seto took a mirror and placed it in front of the beam.

“It passes right through!” Atem said with surprise. “But there’s a layer of metal in there.”

“Exactly. If I were to place my arm in front of the beam it would pass through that as well. I wouldn’t recommend it though. We don’t know what effects this radiation has. Now … the tricky part. If I take some of this paint and expose it to the light …” Seto dipped a paintbrush into a jar of Dartz mixture #3 and placed it into one of the colored beams emitted from the crystal. “Good,” he said. “Now, we apply it.” He dabbed the paint onto two separate scraps of canvas.

“Since I’m not creating a simulacrum and exposing my subject to the light from the crystal, the second canvas serves as the linked object. You see? These two canvases are twins. Therefore …” he said, taking a painter’s knife and scratching across one of the canvases. “Look at the other canvas, Atem.”

Atem looked at the other canvas and it looked similarly scraped. “What …?”

“You’ve seen this sort of thing before,” Seto said. “Haven’t you?”

“I’ve seen … a painting move.”

“Exactly. This is a similar phenomenon. Now,” he said with a triumphant smile. “Proof of concept.”

Atem pressed his palm to his forehead. “I see this, but I still don’t understand how it works.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Seto. “I haven’t figured out all the details myself either. All I can figure out is that somehow exposing the two linked items—in this case, it’s the paint—to the radiation from the same crystal at the same or nearly the same time links the two items.”

“Neat, huh?” said Mokuba.

“I guess …” said Atem, “if one of the linked items isn’t your brother. Now that you’ve figured how you can do this, the question is, how do we _un_ do it?”

Instead of answering, Seto opened his briefcase. Inside was a black electronic device roughly the size of a cereal box.

Atem looked at the panel of the device. There were a multitude of dials marked wavelength 1 through 50, a switch set to _On_ , and a red button marked _Engage_. The first 23 dials had been set. On the end of the device was something that appeared to be an emitter of some sort.

Lifting the device, Seto pointed it at the stone and pressed the red button. A bright yellow light burst forth. When it hit the aqua stone, it seemed to turn into mist, then vanish.

“What the hell?” said Atem.

“The light dissolves the matrix holding the crystal structure together. Then the elements that make up the crystal simply vaporize.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“You haven’t seen the most important part yet,” Seto said, turning back to the scrap of canvas. He took the knife and scraped the paint in another direction. “Look at its twin.”

The second painting was unchanged.

“Destroying the crystal unlinks the paintings!” Atem cried, excited. “I can’t believe it’s so easy!” Without thinking, he lunged forward, hugging Seto.

“I’m not sure I’d call pulling all this together exactly _easy_ ,” Seto complained, frowning and struggling a bit in Atem’s grasp. “You have to destroy the crystal in this specific way. This essentially disintegrates it.”

Atem, remembering where they were, let go, embarrassed. “Uh, I don’t mean that … I just—I didn’t think that just destroying the crystal would work.”

“I see,” Seto said, his annoyance dissipating. “At any rate, I want to plan on destroying the main crystal as soon as possible. Is that acceptable to you?”

“Yes! Yes, let’s do it.”

* * *

The next week Dartz announced that he had to go to Paris on a business trip. Atem immediately took the opportunity to call Seto and suggest that this might be their best opportunity.

That Wednesday, Atem met Seto at the little café around the corner from KaibaCorp for croissants and coffee. Seto arrived dressed down in plain jeans, t-shirt and denim jacket, but still carried his metal briefcase.

“I’m not sure that the clothes keep you from standing out,” Atem commented.

Seto simply sat and, placing his briefcase on the table, opened it, revealing his crystal destroyer.

“So, are you sure that will take care of the crystal?” asked Atem.

“Yes, by my calculations, it should. The output is adjustable, and I can also take readings and make changes as needed.”

“These pyramids?” asked Atem, looking at three small items in the case.

“Those are sensors, in case I need to take readings.”

“Looks like you’re fully prepared.”

“I don’t know about ‘fully,’ but I don’t want to take the time to prepare further. I think we can get the job done with this. Your help has been inestimable. The only thing I’m concerned about is whether there’s another one of those crystals.”

“He told us that it took him decades to grow this one.”

“I’m hoping that he was telling us the truth—and that even if he’s currently growing another, it won’t be ready for some time yet.”

“He shouldn’t be able to use a new one against you in any case—I don’t think,” Atem said.

“That remains to be seen.”

“Something I hope won’t have to be tested,” said Atem.

“The other thing … I wish I didn’t have to mention, but are you ready in case of trouble? I can get you—” Seto produced a small handgun from a jacket pocket.

“ _No!_ ” Atem felt bad about the outburst, and stopped himself, taking a breath. “No, I’m sorry, I think I can handle anything that comes up without that,” he said.

“You’re good at fighting?” asked Seto, concerned.

“Not so much that; I’m quick on my feet. I can usually figure something out.”

“Very well,” said Seto, “I’ll trust your judgment, but I’m bringing this along, just in case. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“You’re not planning on using deadly force, are you?” Atem demanded, surprised.

“Only if I’m forced to.”

Atem didn’t even like the thought of that. He reached out and placed his hand on Seto’s, focusing his attention in a heartbeat. “Seto,” he said, “I know that I suggested that this might be our time, but maybe we should think about postponing this operation—just for a little longer. I mean, we could use a little more information about that top floor … and what we might be up against, and whether what we’re trying might actually work—”

“I know, Atem, and everything you’re saying makes sense. But we can’t know whether the device works until we get to the crystal in any case.” He sighed. “If you must know, I don’t want to wait.”

“But what about Mokuba? If anything happened to you—”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking about. I’m not any good to him the way I am now. I can’t trust myself. Dartz can take control back any time he wants.” Seto’s hand went to his forehead, massaging his temple. “When I think what he might … Atem, I can’t wait. Waiting means risking my company and, more importantly, Mokuba. I’m at his whim, Atem. That risk is so much greater than any risk I’d take trying to destroy that crystal.”

“Still, Seto, I don’t think Dartz will do anything right now because—”

“Because he’s got you under his thumb?” Seto said, leaning back and folding his arms. “Maybe not, but I don’t trust him. I can’t. It would be one thing if it were just me, but he could potentially hurt Mokuba through me. I can’t let that happen. I’d die first.”

“Seto …” Atem searched his eyes, then finally said, “You’re right. Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to come. I could do this alone.”

“What? There’s no way you’re going alone, so let’s get going. I want to get this done as soon as possible.”

“Besides,” Seto muttered as he got up, “I don’t like the thought of your working with him.”

The two made their way down to the street where Kaiba compressed his tall frame into Atem’s little car with some difficulty. After he pushed the front passenger’s seat all the way back and found himself still cramped, he asked, “How do you deal with this?”

“It’s never been a problem for me. Please bear with it until we get to Paradise.”

“If it weren’t so conspicuous, I’d switch to one of my vehicles right now.”

“But we need to use something that won’t be noticed, and my car is supposed to be around.”

Seto sighed and shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that wasn’t completely cramped. He wound up pressed a little against Atem, who would have found it very pleasant if it weren’t quite so distracting. Atem could only be glad that the drive wasn’t a long one.

“I’m going to go in the back way and let you in,” Atem said as they pulled into the neighborhood of the Paradise building. “That way you won’t have to worry about being recognized.”

“Hn.”

Atem parked a couple of blocks away. Seto opened his briefcase, further cramping the front seat momentarily. “What are you doing?” asked Atem.

“I’m turning on this device. It needs to warm up.”

“You couldn’t do this at the café?”

“No, it doesn’t need that much time. That would just drain the battery unnecessarily. Now, just in case,” Seto went on, looking at Atem seriously, “you should know how to operate this thing. It’s easy enough.”

“What is it that I need to do?”

“It’s already set up. By the time we get up there it should be warmed up and ready to fire. Just aim and press the red button.”

Atem looked the device over once again and nodded. “No problem.”

“If these settings don’t work, I might have to adjust them, but I’m hoping this will work.” Seto snapped the briefcase closed.

The two walked in from behind the building, trying not to attract too much attention. They entered through as side entrance with no problem and as they walked down the hallway, Seto handed Atem his briefcase and pulled out something that looked like a cell phone. “You’re not making a call!”

“No, I’m getting ready for the elevator.”

Atem lifted a questioning eyebrow, but they had arrived in front of the elevator by that time. When they stepped in, Seto tapped the screen. “Done,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“If security takes a look at the video feed, they’ll see a previously recorded video of just you going up. It will also signal that you’ve gotten off at your usual floor rather than the top floor.”

“That’s fantastic!”

“Hacking into their system was easy. For someone who’s remarkably advanced in other ways, he’s applied surprisingly pedestrian security.”

“That’s odd.”

“He keeps such a low profile that I don’t think he expects a high-level threat.”

_Hubris, wasn’t that what Isis said?_

“That wasn’t very forward-thinking of him.”

“Besides, how many people know what he’s doing up there? In any case, he probably has something more formidable waiting for us at the top.”

The doors slid open and they stepped out into the large hall. Seto tapped his phone again. “What are you doing?” asked Atem.

“Look at the elevator.”

Atem turned and noticed that the indicators weren’t lit. “You cut the power.” It was hard to tell, since the large hall was well-lit by sunlight streaming through the crystal windows.

“This should buy us some time,” Seto said.

“But they’ll know we’re here.”

“All they know right now is that the power went out. It will take them a little while to determine why it went out and longer to get up here. By that time with any luck our work will be done,” Seto said. “But we can do one thing to delay them a little longer. Where are the stairs?”

Atem led the way over to the stairwell. Seto pulled out two wedges from his pockets and jammed them firmly under the doors. “This should hold any intruders for a few minutes,” he said. The two moved forward toward the room containing the Oracle Crystal.

“Why don’t you turn around and go back where you came from?”

The man making that suggestion came from the direction of the crystal room. _Another biker-type_ , Atem thought, looking at the guy, who was dressed in heavy boots, jeans, and a t-shirt. He wasn’t that tall, but he had a tough air that reminded him a little of Jounouchi—enough that he kind of wished he’d invited Jounouchi along. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Valon,” he said with a smile. “You’ve done well, but please head for the emergency exit. Your luck has run its course.”

“I don’t think so,” said Atem, taking a step forward, but then Amelda stepped out of a room right next to the crystal room and stood in front of its door. Seto slid his phone into an inner pocket of his jacket and subtly shifted next to Atem. Atem barely glanced sideways toward him, sensing he was ready to spring into action at any moment.

_Think, Atem!_ Atem exhorted himself, realizing that he’d brought little with him. Clenching his fists, he noticed the handle of Seto’s metal briefcase pressing into the right one. _Right_ , he thought, taking another step toward Valon, who was nearest.

But Seto had already moved past him with surprising speed. Atem almost stopped to watch, but Valon made his move and Atem had to react to counter him, swinging the briefcase around so that it viciously swatted Valon’s grasping hands. “Ah!” he cried, pulling back his hand and taking a step to the side to carry himself wide of the blow and past Atem.

Atem was dimly aware of a flurry to his side and a little ahead as blows were thrown and countered, but he was too busy to check to see how Seto was doing against Amelda. Atem swung around to face the rear, leading with the briefcase. As expected, Valon was rushing him from that direction, but had ducked low to avoid the flying luggage. Adjusting, Atem twirled the briefcase like a baton, redirecting its momentum and bring it down and out toward Valon.

It connected with a sickening crack. Valon dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Lightly turning on his toe, Atem started to bound over to Seto, but stopped in his tracks. Seto had Amelda on the floor in the crystal room in a chokehold.

“One moment,” he said.

“Are you all right?” Atem asked, arriving at Seto’s side.

“Me? This guy is the one who’s out of it,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Shouldn’t you be asking after him?”

“Hmph.”

Seto produced several electrical ties from a pocket and handed Atem a few. “You really _are_ prepared,” said Atem.

“I don’t see any reason to allow these guys to interrupt us again. Secure that other guy.”

Atem hurried into the other room and linked Valon’s wrists and ankles with the ties.

_Oh. Right_. He still had the briefcase. Laying it on its side, he took out Seto’s device. Then he stood and walked into the mirrored room. The huge crystal stood in the center shining with its own inner light. It was almost a shame to destroy such a remarkable thing.

Seto was still bent over Amelda, between Atem and the crystal. Atem paused, wondering what was taking him so long. “Are you OK?” he asked.

“Fine,” was the muttered reply.

“You know, Seto, you had me worried there for a second,” he said, carefully taking aim at the crystal. “Shall I?” he asked, but he wanted to wait until Seto moved out of the way before pressing the button.

“Wait.” Atem froze at the tone of Seto’s voice, confused. He looked at him carefully. He was still bent over Amelda’s unconscious form, his bangs hanging over his face, obscuring his eyes.

“Seto—?”

“You could have had it all …” the voice was distant, flat, dead. But also, worse, it was weird: attenuated and almost … bubbly.

“Seto, no …” Atem stared at him, despairing.

“This man, Seto, always getting in the way. And you, always so hasty, thoughtlessly allowing yourself to be distracted from your studies … How shall I punish him, Atem? How shall I punish _you?_ Shall I take your toys away from you?” With that, Seto straightened, and Atem found himself staring into deep blue eyes that were totally blank.

Atem’s mind scrambled in a panic. _How …?_ And then he realized. A simple call from Amelda. The little crystal. The one Dartz always wore around his neck. _He could do so much with that?_ Atem’s knees almost buckled from the discovery that he’d so seriously underestimated Dartz. What was Dartz doing, anyway? He could almost picture Dartz whispering into the ear of the misty purple version of Seto, forcing him to parrot his words in that strange, robotic voice.

_If I destroy this crystal_ , Atem wondered, _would it truly free Seto? This was the one that was used in the creation of the painting, after all. But if they’re linked like Dartz said, then what?_

But his reverie was interrupted by a click so loud in the silent room that it seemed deafening. Then Atem saw it.

It was the sound of the hammer of Seto’s revolver being pulled back. The barrel of that revolver was now pressed up under Seto’s jaw, aimed directly upward toward his brain.

“S-seto?” Atem managed, nearly choking. All the air seemed suddenly to have been sucked from the room.

“After a fashion. But if you value Seto at all, I advise you to drop that device. Now.”

**Author’s notes ...**

[here's some of the original notes for the few who might be interested ...] Again, sorry for the wait! (Fell down a couple of rabbit holes as well as having some difficulty getting this right ... ish ...) But, yes, an even _longer_ chapter for y’all. Actually, I was originally planning to cut this one in half and post them one right after the other, but the first part is so very heavy in exposition that I changed my mind. This way at least it’s part of what’s hopefully a larger, somewhat more interesting chapter!

I’m just thinking this chapter has virtually no romance. Sorry about that.

[Lengthy character note next four paragraphs; includes some repetition. Detour as needed.] As to Kaiba ... I believe I’ve posted a character note before, but I feel I need to elaborate. Keeping him in character has been particularly challenging for this story and I’m not sure how successful I’ve been. Opinions apparently vary! Keep in mind as well, that my baseline is the Japanese anime version of Kaiba who, while still tactless, rude, and dismissive (even belittling) of Atem’s friends (particularly Jounouchi), at least acknowledges facts thrust in his face. Argh, I don’t want to do a character analysis, so I’ll skip that and get to it. I seem to have inadvertently set myself a high degree of difficulty with the premise of this story. (IMO, Kaiba’s a difficult enough character to write under ordinary circumstances, BTW.) Because of the portrait device [as previously discussed], I have Atem meeting the “inner Kaiba” before he meets the “outer Kaiba“; that is, a more honest, less defensive version of Kaiba. Because of this, I decided that I had to skip through a lot of the initial defensive layer that I expect from Kaiba due to his abandonment issues. However, because he already relates to Atem in an unexpected way, he feels awkward and strange about it, which I’ve tried to get across.

I believe it might have helped if I wrote from Kaiba’s point of view, but since everything had been third-person Atem, I thought adding an additional point of view so late in the game (Kaiba himself was introduced a few chapters in) would just feel weird in a story that was weird enough to start with.

This is not to say that I have been completely successful in handling the character challenge I’ve set for myself! I’ll admit, I can’t even say that I’m completely satisfied with how that aspect of the story is turning out. All I can say for sure is that I’m doing the best I can. I guess I can do a rewrite if I ever figure out a way that I think works out better. [Feel free to make any suggestions you think might help. ;)] As I always say, your mileage may vary ... But I do hope that you enjoy the story and forgive any character flaws that I may inadvertently commit.

If you want Kaiba’s motivation for his rather impetuous kiss in the last chapter, I’m more than happy to supply it, but it is complex and the discussion would be long and possibly boring. If someone asks, I’ll add a note about it as well. ;)

Really no chapter notes this time ... thank god, no? Ridiculously verbose character notes instead. Sigh.


	11. The Ties That Bind

_And then I looked up at the sun and saw the sky_  
_And the way that gravity pulls on you and I._  
~ “Gravity,” Embrace

Atem’s reverie was interrupted by a click so loud in the silent room that it seemed deafening. Then he saw it.

It was the sound of the hammer of Seto’s revolver being pulled back. The barrel of that revolver was now pressed up under Seto’s jaw, aimed directly upward toward his brain.

“S-seto?” Atem managed, nearly choking. All the air seemed to have suddenly been sucked from the room.

“After a fashion. But if you value Seto at all, I advise you to drop that device. Now.”

“ _Wait!_ ” Atem gasped. “If you hurt him, why wouldn’t I destroy the Oracle Crystal?” he reasoned.

The strange remote voice came from Kaiba, “In the long run, Atem, I can always create another crystal. Can you say the same of this pest? On the other hand, there are others whom you value. You might want to think about that before trying to negotiate.”

Atem tried as hard as he could to ignore the heartbreakingly weird flatness of the voice, so unlike the voice he’d come to listen for.

_Think, Atem, think!_

He stared at Seto. He’d been so adamant about preventing Dartz from threatening Mokuba.

“ _I can’t let that happen. I’d die first.”_

Did he dare honor that willingness to risk everything? “Dartz, are you so anxious to risk losing my cooperation?”

“With Kaiba out of the way, I have the rest of your life to convince you to forgive me. Believe me, once you have come to terms with the emotional shock of it and you see what you can accomplish, you’ll understand that you can only reach your full potential through me. But it isn’t necessary for you to go through that pain at all. Stick with our original deal. I promised to free Kaiba, didn’t I? Why not be patient?”

“Why not? Because you’re forcing this! I only agreed to work with you because of him. Kaiba should never have been trapped in the first place.”

“That’s your opinion. Now, put that item down and smash it, and I’ll let him go. You wouldn’t want his finger to slip, would you? I don’t know how light the pull on this gun is.”

Atem gritted his teeth and began praying. _Please, god, let this work!_ and, _Forgive me, Mokuba._

“OK, just let me …” he began, taking a step forward while leaning down. He wanted to be as close as he could manage without coming within reach. He didn’t want to give Dartz the chance to make Seto grab the device.

“No more hesitation,” warned Seto.

“Fine,” Atem muttered, kneeling. This was going to take all his concentration. When he was ready, he pointed the device toward the crystal and pressed the button.

But that wasn’t what his mind was on.

His mind was on his lessons. Controlling a chemical reaction requires the channeling of electromagnetic energy in a specific manner. He could only do this for a few seconds.

He heard the clatter of the device hitting the floor followed instantly by the click of the firing pin.

 _The click_ —

Atem’s hands wrenched the gun away and tossed it across the room, smashing one of the black mirrors. He heard his own breath coming in gasps as he rolled away to grab the device before Seto could get to it. As swiftly as he could, he aimed and fired.

Nothing.

_Where is the bright yellow light?_

Atem was so stunned by this turn that when a strong arm wrapped around his throat he was taken completely by surprise.

_Well, this is bad._

He was already beginning to see stars as his blood flow was constricted. He twisted, trying to catch Seto’s eye. “S-seto!” he managed to choke out. The grip tightened, but he forced a few more words out as his vision started to gray. “How can you … listen to Dartz … after we … after …”

Visions of the past several weeks’ events flashed through his mind. Spotting the portrait in Pegasus’ store; talking with the painted figure; Seto turning around and looking him at the Magician’s Triple Dragon; kissing Seto in his entryway … Toward the end, he felt almost as though he was being pulled through the visions until at the end he stood before the portrait, holding himself steady by clinging to its frame, feeling an almost irresistible suction from its … what? Interior? Didn’t a painting have a surface? Only then he fell into it, horizontally—as though gravity had suddenly gone sideways. It was then that he noticed a thick cord attached to his chest. Was that what pulled him in?

He fell through complete blackness.

For seconds he felt completely weightless, disoriented and terrified, and then, suddenly, he was deftly caught in a pair of strong arms, his chest against another, broader chest. A spotlight split the darkness to reveal Seto, his high headdress towering over the two of them, his blue eyes regarding him enigmatically, the cord that connected them now twisted around them.

Straining into the gray, he remembered where he was. Seto’s strong arm wasn’t cradling him but choking him. But none of this made any sense to Atem. How could Dartz tell Seto to hurt him when their bond was so very strong? How could he pull Seto far enough away to forget what he was doing? That hurt more than anything else.

Atem tried to picture the bond, picture himself pulling on that cord from his end as hard as he could. If only he could concentrate! _Seto, remember our bond!_ he shouted, but all that came out was a wisp of a sigh as his consciousness failed. “Se … meh … ouh … bohn …”

The grip loosened, just for a second. Taking a deep gasp of air, Atem twisted and shoved Seto away as viciously as he could. Scrambling for balance, Seto’s heel collided with Amelda, and he fell haplessly backward, colliding with the mirror behind him, cracking it.

Atem scrambled after on his knees, forgetting that he should be wary of him. “Are you all right?” he cried, leaning over the prone body. He was still panting, regaining his breath.

Seto was out of it, so Atem retrieved the electrical ties in his pocket and secured him. “Sorry about this, Seto.” The problem was, what was wrong with Seto’s device? If it needed fixing, he would need Seto’s help, which meant he was shit out of luck.

As he walked by Amelda, the man groaned and struggled feebly at his bindings. _Wait a minute_ , Atem thought.

Amelda had appeared out of the room next to this one, he thought. Picking up the device, he ran into the room. He couldn’t have much time left.

“If you can stop a reaction just by using your body as a battery and slamming it with your electromagnetic field,” he mumbled, “then on a similar note, maybe he can mess up our batteries using some sort of electromagnetic interference?”

But Amelda would have to set something because he wasn’t any kind of mage or anything. And with the power cut already …

He looked around. The room was small and plain, containing just a desk and chair. On the desk was a simple, featureless metal cube.

 _Could this be it?_ Atem wondered. _If it is, how the crap does it work?_

He picked it up and turned it over in his hands looking at all its sides. They all looked the same! In frustration, he put it down again and looked at the device again. Could it be that dropping it messed it up?

He sighed, shook it, and tried pressing the button again. A blinding yellow light came out of the business end.

Atem was so stunned that he almost dropped the thing again.

_What the hell?_

Well, he wasn’t going to try to figure this out. He heard people beginning to pound on the stairway doors. He raced back into the other room, took aim at the crystal and fired.

When he saw that the crystal was beginning to disappear, he sank to his knees in relief. It only took seconds, but the disintegration seemed to take ages. When it was over, Atem hurried over to Seto.

“Dammit, I should have taken the time to check your head! You could be badly injured!” he muttered, gently running his hands through Seto’s hair. Sure enough, there was a laceration, sticky with blood.

“Mm, Atem, that hurts,” murmured Seto, his eyes slowly opening to narrow, midnight blue slits. “Atem …” he began in a low and dangerous voice.

“Yeah?” Atem said dully. It was just getting through that Seto was no longer under Dartz’ control.

“Why am I bound hand and foot?” the dangerous voice continued.

“Oh. Oh!” Atem fished out his keys and opened the little pocketknife that was attached. “Don’t,” he said, seeing Seto pull at the bindings. He freed Seto in a few seconds. “I’m sorry, you were under Dartz’ control, so …”

“I see.”

“We need to get you out of here. Hear that banging? The stairs are out.”

“Let’s get to the elevator.”

“Wait!” Amelda shouted, now fully alert. “Untie me first.”

“Dream on,” said Atem.

When they got to the elevator, Seto restored the power and opened the elevator door. “I’m not sure that going all the way down is practical,” he said. “There’s sure to be a party waiting at the bottom.”

“We can go down a floor to my lab for now,” said Atem, “but we need to figure some way out. You need to be checked out as soon as possible.”

Seto restored the power once they arrived at the elevator and they reached the lab without incident. “Where …” Seto began, stepping out of the elevator with a slight stagger.

Atem wrapped an arm around Seto’s back to support him and was surprised to find that he gladly accepted and leaned heavily on him. Not only that, his back was completely damp and sticky with blood. Atem glanced back, horrified. “I had no idea you were bleeding so profusely!” he said, helping him to the desk chair. “Sit tight just a moment while I get the med kit.”

He took some bandages and had Seto apply pressure to the wound. “Atem,” Seto began, but Atem didn’t like his eyes. They had a hard, glassy look to them.

“I think we might have to risk going down anyway,” he said, running a hand through Seto’s hair as he positioned Seto’s head to take a closer look. “You need help right away. I mean, what’s he going to do?”

“Wait,” Seto said. “I want to say something.”

“I can’t—”

“Wait. My dream. He was—”

“He tried to kill you! Yes! And I can’t let him accidentally succeed, either! Seto—”

“No, I mean later, when he tried to use me to choke you unconscious. I heard you calling me. I need you to know—”

“It’s all right, Seto, I already know.” Atem struggled to keep the panic out of his voice, to sound calm and reassuring, but he was beginning to feel faint and helpless. He pressed his feverish cheek against Seto’s forehead. It felt cold and clammy.

“No … it’s important. He can’t use me against Mokuba now. I owe you … thanks …”

Atem felt tears stinging his eyes and thought, _Shit. Not now!_ Suppressing them, turned his head so that his lips were pressed against Seto’s forehead and murmured, “Not necessary. I’m being selfish. You know I plan on keeping you for myself.”

“No matter what happens, don’t let him use me to enslave you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going to let anything happen.” But Seto seemed to be struggling to stay conscious. Wasn’t there something about keeping people with head wounds awake? “Stay with me,” he said. “You know, we have to get going—”

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Atem reluctantly left Seto to open it, revealing a security guard. “Please excuse the intrusion, sir,” he said, “but there’s been a security breach. We’ve received instructions from Master Dartz to escort you and your esteemed guest outside.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, just a precaution.”

“Good. Thanks.”

Atem pulled Seto up and had him lean on his shoulder heavily. As they got into the elevator, the guard asked, “Was your guest injured when the power went off? We have emergency services waiting downstairs just in case.”

“Um, yes, thanks. That would be very helpful.”

* * *

The next thing he knew, they were riding in an ambulance (Atem having successfully talked his way on as a ride-along).

As the med team evaluated Seto, Atem fished out his cell and called Mokuba to ask him to meet them. Seto wasn’t in favor, but he figured that even if Seto weren’t in any danger, there’d be hell to pay if he didn’t call.

To Atem’s relief, the staff recognized Seto’s status and immediately ushered him into the ER, but they refused to let him in, so he was left pacing relentlessly in the waiting room. Mokuba found him there several minutes later with Isono running after him.

“Atem! My brother!”

“They’re working on him right now. I have no idea—”

“Let me.” He marched up to the counter. Atem watched him, fascinated. The nurses had no idea what they were in for. Soon he’d flattened them like a steamroller, and beckoned to Atem and Isono. “Come with me, Atem. We’re going to ER five. Isono, position yourself outside that room.”

“Yes sir,” he said.

“You got me in?” asked Atem, impressed.

“Yeah, I figured Nii-sama would like to see you, and you got him help, so you deserve to be here.”

“But maybe I helped to get him hurt, too!” Atem said sadly.

Mokuba grabbed Atem’s hand. “I know you would never hurt him intentionally, the way you are around him. And he insisted on doing this thing right away.” Mokuba cast Atem a quick sideways glance that chilled him to the bone and momentarily reminded him of his brother—and not in a good way. “But let’s hope that he’s OK, OK?” he added.

 _Yeah, I guess you’d much rather it be me in there, huh?_ Atem thought with a small, rueful smile.

They had reached ER 5, so Atem quietly lifted the curtains and the two stepped in.

“… still be little evidence of a scar, but in this location, it doesn’t matter as much,” the doctor finished.

“Thank you. Oh, hello, Atem, Mokuba. I see you talked the nurses into letting you in.”

“Thank goodness!” Atem breathed. “He looks better.”

“Oh, yes,” said the doctor, as though that reminded him of something. “Mr Kaiba was going into shock from the loss of blood. He has a slight concussion, but fortunately it shouldn’t develop into anything serious as long as he avoids further injury for the next few weeks.”

Atem nearly keeled over from relief. “And here I thought I might lose you!” he said.

“Disappointed?”

“Hardly! But I might need some medical attention myself after all this anxiety.”

“Wait a minute here!” complained Mokuba. “I think I deserve something for being left out of all this and having to worry. You have to take me out for ice cream and fill me in on all the details!”

Seto shook his head. “I can’t understand how this kid is so thin.”

* * *

Atem didn’t really want to meet with Dartz again, but he was very insistent and Atem decided that if Dartz really wanted to talk to him, he’d figure out a way to do it eventually whether Atem liked it or not. So he finally returned to Paradise for a final time, ascending to the top floor. This time, Dartz led him to an open area that overlooked the city. He’d never seen this terrace before and took in the view with some awe.

Dartz smiled. “Not a bad view, is it? I’ve taken the liberty of having tea served,” he said, indicating a small table.

“Very well, but I won’t be staying long,” Atem said, seating himself and doing his best to glower at his host. “What do you have to say?”

“I must congratulate you. That was very well done.”

“You’re not angry? You’re not going to try to take revenge on us?”

“Of course not. You didn’t destroy anything that can’t be replaced, and, as I told you, the process I was exploring hasn’t been perfected yet.” Dartz shrugged. “There are plans that have to be adjusted, but it’s nothing serious. I always have contingency plans.”

“No doubt,” Atem said drily. “I’m glad that you aren’t planning on coming after me or Kaiba in any case.”

“Why would I? It will take time, but I can grow a new crystal. I can renew my studies of its properties. Physical properties are a constant. Finding a person with the talents required to be my assistant, however … that is an entirely different thing. As much as Kaiba is an obstacle, you seem set on him, so I’ve decided to let that be, at least for now. How would I ever convince you to remain as my apprentice if I got on your bad side?”

Atem gaped at the man. “Are you serious? And don’t you think you have gotten on my bad side trying to kill Seto? After everything, you really think I’ll continue with you?”

“Please. When you oppose me, you have to expect some sort of resistance.” He waved it off. “But all that is water under the bridge. Forgotten. You know that I take the long view, and I’d like you to consider doing that as well. But, even if you don’t, I can afford to be patient. I can wait you out, even if I have to wait until your next life. But I want you to think it over seriously, Atem. I know that you were interested in what I had to show you, and you know that you’re not likely to learn any of this on your own. Besides, you wouldn’t have been able to save your beloved Kaiba without what you learned from me, would you?”

“About that … I don’t understand. You’d suppressed electromagnetic fields, but I could still use them to stop the gunpowder from exploding.”

“The fact that you can even ask that question proves my point. Perhaps there is hope for you after all,” Dartz said with an ingratiating smile. “Fortunately, the gross fields generated by electrical generators and batteries are different from those created by living beings. If they weren’t, turning on the modulator to dampen them would have killed everyone within range. Living beings rely on the electrical signals generated on a cellular level. However, those quantum effects create fields that aren’t affected by my modulator.”

“I guess I have the general idea,” Atem said, thinking that it was still way too confusing.

“Atem, you understand that if I didn’t care whether I killed you, I could have stopped you any time I wanted to, don’t you? I knew you were there.”

Atem’s hand went to his forehead. He’d thought it had been so troublesome, when it had actually been easy. “Is that why you let us go so easily?”

“Would giving you trouble have restored my Oracle Crystal?”

“No.”

“Well, then.” Dartz settled back. “Sure you don’t want another cup of tea?”

“Positive. You know that I’m quitting. I don’t need to stay any longer.” Atem stood to go.

“Kaiba’s free, so you’re leaving, is that it?” He sighed. “It’s all about that man. I can show you so much more. I can help you fulfill your potential.” Reaching out and holding Atem’s wrist lightly, he added, “Even if you don’t care about that, this is about so much more.”

Catching something in Dartz’ eyes, Atem paused. “What do you mean?”

“Come now. Do you really think that this is about sheer power? If it were, why do you think I’m content to drive from the back seat? I don’t have to, you know. If I wanted to take my place at the wheel, there’s not a thing anyone could do to stop me. Don’t you know that?”

Dartz let go of Atem’s wrist, watching him carefully as comprehension filled his eyes. He smiled and continued, “Why don’t you take a step back and look at the world objectively for a moment? Do you really think it’s just and fair to allow the powers to move the world forward strictly for the sake of their own nations—or, worse, for their own personal gain? Because, face it, that’s what’s going on, and the world is the worse for it. This is what I’m working toward. The betterment of the future of the entire world, and everyone in it.”

“Are you serious? This is why you’re enslaving souls?”

“That’s harsh.”

“That’s what it amounts to. You said so yourself.”

“And that’s why I need your help. Right now my process is inelegant and complicated. I need assistance and research to streamline it so that only a few suggestions here and there can push the affairs of the world in the correct direction.”

“Still … interfering at that level …”

“Risking the world is better, you think? When you might have the power to save it with a mere suggestion or two?”

 _This man_ , Atem thought, _has the persuasive power of the devil_. He stared at him, those strange disparate eyes bearing into him.

Dartz shrugged. “You know,” he said, “it doesn’t have to be a choice between me and Kaiba. You don’t have to quit.”

 _Like Seto would tolerate that_ , Atem thought. “Then why did you have to capture him and threaten his life?”

“Perhaps I miscalculated. But, remember, that painting helped me locate you. As far as killing him … I saw that as removing a distraction.”

“You …” Atem stood. “Distraction?! You’re unbelievable. Why must you underestimate him as you do? He had the benefit of none of your arcane knowledge and this one lifetime and yet his technology was instrumental in defeating you!”

“Hand-in-hand with what I taught you. You say I underestimate him; I say you overestimate him. We must agree to disagree.” Dartz waved it off. “As I said, even grief eases with time. And if you really wanted him so much, eventually you’d have to turn to me to seek the answers that only I can provide.”

“You really think I could forget so easily?”

“I take a view unlike that of other people. Even if it’s true that only he can give you the life that you want, if something happened to him, I am the only one who could help you find him again in the swirling seas of time.” Dartz sighed and shrugged. “Even so, before you leave, consider carefully. You should know, you’ve learned all this so quickly—how to apply what you’ve learned—the only explanation is that you’re calling upon some memory from a past life.”

“You’re telling me that I’ve already studied with you?”

“You’ve learned so much already, but that’s nothing! You can’t begin to imagine what we could achieve together. Do you seriously want to throw all that away for Kaiba? If you really knew what your previous lives were like—”

Atem whirled so that he faced away. “I don’t care what you have to say about that, whether you were there or not!” he exclaimed contemptuously.

Dartz ignored him. “You don’t care that both of you have too much pride, that your rivalry prevents you from seeking resolution. You don’t remember what happened in your previous life. Kaiba will never be your equal and will always resent that. No matter what, any relationship you attempt to form with him will have a fatal flaw.” Atem felt a hand gently come to rest on his shoulder. “If you must align yourself with a powerful man, it can be arranged. After centuries, gender is a minor consideration.”

Atem froze. “You … you’d even—is there nothing you’ll not stoop to?”

“Atem, please. Consider that there are few who can comprehend what I am trying to accomplish, let alone share my view. This wasn’t my original intention, but …”

“If you think Seto and I are doomed, then all you have to do is wait. You only have forever.” Atem shrugged the hand away and strode from the room without looking back.

When Atem left the Paradise building for the last time, the first balmy breezes of June lifted his golden bangs. The deep blue sky spread before him without a cloud. He took a deep breath. It felt like a whole new season of his life was opening up.

* * *

It really felt good to be back at the game shop. Atem wondered whether Yugi was completely thrilled to have him back, though. “You miss Raphael that much?” he asked irritably, watching Yugi putter behind the cash register.

“Well, no, not really, but he was really efficient. I was surprised. He knew his stuff.”

“You’re not seriously worried about Anzu, are you, because—”

“I’m so not!” Yugi protested, red-faced.

“Good to hear,” Atem said, smiling, “but I’d be happy to bring Seto around to remind her how I feel about him. Any time.”

Yugi’s face darkened even further. “No, that’s OK. That really threw her for a loop and I don’t think she’ll forget it anytime soon. So you don’t have to—”

“So things are going all right between you two?”

A smile spread across Yugi’s face as he placed his elbows on the counter and rested his chin on his hands. His coloration didn’t get any less ruddy, however. “You could say that,” he allowed. “She should be along in a little bit.”

“Really? She has the evening off?” Concern creased Atem’s brow. “Shit. I was counting on bugging out early tonight. I’ve been so busy trying to get back in the swing, I totally forgot to ask if you had plans!”

“Oh man, that’s right! The store’s closed tomorrow, too.” Yugi looked Atem over. “You’re planning something special for tonight, aren’t you?”

“Well, not planning, exactly, but just in case something does happen, I wanted to be ready.”

“You’re letting him take the lead?” Yugi asked, amused, lifting his eyebrows.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Atem growled. “He’s an alpha male.”

“So are you, really. Even if you … er … well, let’s just say that I figured you’d eventually end up pulling some guy down by his tie or something.”

Atem laughed. “I guess that isn’t so far out, but I get the feeling Seto’s a little more rigid than I am. I’m going to have to go at his pace if things are going to work out for us even if that’s frustrating sometimes. If I tried to force things on him, I think I’d push him away.”

“He’s that delicate?”

“Maybe more fussy than delicate.”

Yugi chuckled. “Whatever,” he said. “Better you than me.”

“You can’t have him in any case,” Atem said, half-serious. “Even if I wasn’t crazy in love, I worked too hard to get him to give him up easily.”

“I think I will give you your evening,” Yugi said with a wink. “Even if you weren’t planning anything—”

“I told you, I’m not, really.”

“— _or_ weren’t keeping your options open, you still need time together. I take it you’re expecting him to drop by?”

“Yes, in fact, I expected him by now … but something probably came up at work. It’s always like that for him.”

As if in response to their discussion, the bell rang and they looked up simultaneously.

“Oh, hi, Jou,” said Atem with a sigh.

“Well, don’t look so thrilled to see me! You’ve been so busy lately, I’ve been trying to remember what you look like!”

“Well, drop by and take a look at Yugi for a reminder,” Atem said with a chuckle. “The likeness isn’t perfect, but it’s close enough.”

“So, you done fixing that Kaiba’s problem?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. Thank goodness.”

Jounouchi smiled broadly and said, “That’s great! Bechou’re glad to get that guy out of your hair.”

“Uh … Jou … haven’t you talked to Anzu?”

“Anzu? What does she have to do with this? I mean …” Jounouchi trailed off, staring at Atem quizzically, trying to figure out what he meant.

“Well, you see, Anzu knows what—The thing is, you’d better get used to Kaiba being around, and I don’t want you insulting him.”

“Wait. Anzu’s been hanging around here a lot lately. I thought she was waiting for you, but you’re not around there so much.”

“Right. Yugi is.”

“Yugi?” Jounouchi looked at Yugi and said to him, “Yugi?”

Yugi shrugged, blushing anew. “You see, we …”

Jounouchi looked back at Atem and said, “So … you really _did_ break up? I mean, I thought maybe you had, but Anzu said …”

“Jou, we were never together.”

“What are you talking about? You were always—”

“Anzu was always asking me to do things and I guess I always figured that friends did things together, so …” He shrugged. “It took me forever to figure out we had different ideas about what was going on between us.”

“Oh, I get it. I thought you and she … but I guess it was Yugi all along, and …” he was looking at Atem, smiling, then his expression changed over to a thoughtful frown. “And then you got that painting … oh, crap! You put it in your bedroom! And … oh, shit, does that mean—?”

Atem heard a soft jingle behind him followed by “I finally got away. I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” in a deep baritone. Just as Atem was turning, a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder. He jumped a little at the sudden contact as Seto’s handsome face loomed over him.

“Yes, it does,” Atem said to Jounouchi, “so behave yourself, OK?”

Jounouchi glanced over Atem’s shoulder with an expression of disgusted resignation and sighed. “All right, but this is going to take some getting used to.”

“I’ll take that,” Atem said. “Oh, you might not remember this, but it took a little while for some of us to get used to Mai, you know, but we all did for you, and we’re glad we did now.”

“What are you talking about? Mai’s great!”

“Yes, but remember at first? The way she kind of draped herself over all us guys? She really rubbed Anzu the wrong way. And her laugh …”

“Oh! I never thought of it that way.”

“Well, you were completely oblivious at the time,” Atem laughed. “And she’s so confident with men. We still wonder how the heck you got together.”

“Atem!”

“Atem,” reminded a voice next to his ear, “don’t you have things to do?”

“Right. Sorry, Jou, gotta go.”

“Oh, yeah. Bye, Atem. Bye, Money-uh, Kaiba.”

* * *

Atem led the way into his apartment, glad to have Seto to himself without interference at last. “I really missed having you here,” he said, smiling.

“What are you talking about?” Seto asked. “I’ve only been here the one time.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s just that with the portrait here, it felt like you’ve always been around. Even when Dartz backed off, it felt … well, that’s hard to describe,” Atem said, frowning. “Now you’re just … gone.”

“No, I think I get it.” Seto gave him a small smile and said, “But I’m here now.”

“So you are. What _shall_ I do with you?”

Atem was almost certain he caught a twinkle deep in Seto’s eyes that he remembered from the painting. “You invited me here,” he said, “but if you really can’t think of anything, I’m sure I can come up with a few suggestions.”

“Oh, really? And here I thought we were taking it slow. Or were you thinking about playing cards?”

“Not tonight. This is the first time we’ve really had a chance to be alone together … at least, without _him_ interfering. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Atem said. “So … would you like to come upstairs?”

Seto didn’t say anything, but followed Atem to the loft with a slight smirk curling the corner of his lips.

Atem didn’t waste any time sitting on the bed and folding his legs under him. Seto ambled in at a leisurely pace, giving his portrait a glance. Seating himself on the end of the bed, he said, “You say you missed me? Even with that—” he nodded toward the painting “—around?”

“Like I said, your presence isn’t in there anymore, so, yeah.” He instinctively reached for Seto’s hand, its reassuring solidity. “But it’s nice to have. I mean, you don’t mind, do you? That _he_ painted it?”

“If you like it, I don’t care. It brought us together, right? And it’s not like this thing is going to bring him back into our lives.”

“Right. Uh, Seto, you know, he still wants me to work for him.”

“Of course he does.” Seto’s hand wrapped around Atem’s as he continued, “So what did you say?”

“That it’s out of the question, of course.”

“It’s a lot to give up.”

“No, Seto, it’s impossible. He almost _killed_ you! And even if he’d never done any of those terrible things to you, I can’t trust him. He claims that he wants to guide the world to a better future, but it’s his idea of a better future, shaped by him without any input from anyone else.” He shook his head. “Whatever assurances he gives me, there’s just no way that what he’s doing is right.”

Seto sighed, sounding relieved, and moved closer. “That’s good.”

“There was this other thing, though.”

“What other thing?”

“He claimed that in our previous lives things didn’t work out so well and—”

The hand gripping his tightened. “You’re telling me you actually care what he has to say about that?!”

“No, I actually don’t, but I thought you should know.”

“I don’t care what that liar says! Let’s forget _him_ ,” he suggested, relaxing a little. “I wouldn’t mind if I never heard his name again. But …” He glanced at the painting again. “You know, I don’t have any pictures of you at all. Have you even thought how much I must be missing you?”

“Huh? … Uh, how much?”

Seto let go of Atem’s hand and swept him into his lap, pulling him into a lingering kiss. Atem slid his arms around Seto’s neck.

When one of Atem’s hands wandered into Seto’s chestnut hair, he jerked back, uttering “Ow!”

“Oops, sorry,” Atem said.

“You got my stitches, Atem.”

“I kind of figured.”

“Let’s work around that for the next few days.” With a ghost of a smile, he regarded Atem’s face seriously and ran a hand through his hair. “You know, I think I deserve my own portrait of you. Do you mind if I commission the artist who did KaibaCorp’s portraits to do one of you?”

“I’d be flattered.”

“I’m not sure anyone could capture those remarkable eyes of yours, but I’d like to have her try.” Seto’s own eyes seemed to soften a little as he gazed into Atem’s eyes for a long moment. Then he sighed again and renewed their kiss.

Atem couldn’t help noticing how much the atmosphere had changed. He could still feel the connection between them, but the anxiety had eased. He wondered whether they could finally relax and take their time. When they broke contact, he asked, “So, not feeling watched any longer?”

“Hn, I wouldn’t say that exactly,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the painting.

“Oh, right. I guess I should move that.”

“Just for tonight, I guess he can watch,” Seto said, pulling Atem into yet another long kiss.

“What do you mean, watch?” gasped Atem. “He’s you.”

“I’m not even sharing you with me,” said Seto, chuckling softly. With that, he leaned heavily against Atem, pushing him backward.

“What—?”

“Just turning out the light.”

In fact, he was stretching an arm over Atem’s shoulder to reach for the lamp, almost pressing Atem flat on the bed with the effort. Atem decided not to fight it, but just pulled Seto down on top of him, chuckling.

“Why are you laughing?” asked Seto.

“Oh, it’s just Yugi. He mentioned something about how he pictured me pulling some poor guy down by his tie.” The fact that Seto was still dressed in a more-or-less conventional (if expensive and impeccably-tailored) business suit—with a beautiful blue silk tie—brought on a new chuckle, which Atem smothered.

“Really. I do hope you don’t have any of those electrical ties on you. Because I’m not really into that kind of thing—”

“Of course not!” Atem said, laughing harder. He clutched Seto as his laughter died down. “You really know how to set a mood.”

“Hey, who brought this whole thing up?” A wicked glint flashed in Seto’s eyes so brightly that Atem could detect it even in the darkness of his room. “You know … you really shouldn’t waste your time making jokes and talking about other people at a time like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, here you finally have someone as ‘beautiful and brilliant’ as me all to yourself and—”

Atem covered his eyes with his hands. “Oh god, you remember _that?_ ”

“You’d be surprised by what I remember.”

“Then I guess I’d better create a memory so vivid that it puts that right out of your mind.”

And, with that, Atem slid his arms around Seto’s shoulders and pulled him in close. In the background he could vaguely discern the dark, oblong shape of the painting.

_I really should move that …_

_Tomorrow …_

_~ Fin ~_

**Author’s notes ...**

Well, finally, here is the last chapter! I hope it is worth the wait! I've gotten myself distracted lately with some other stuff, notably getting sucked into another anime. (Looking forward to viewing the last 6 eps of what's available on streaming.) And, yay, it's subbed, no translation "improvements." Maybe spring fever is making me lazy (more like winter fever, the way it's been going), but I'm hoping to get with the program and buckle down a bit more on current projects. There's still a bunch I want to do. Anyway, droning on ... sorry ... to real notes:

A minor continuity correction was made for this chapter.

_a simple, featureless metal cube_ : I hope it was more-or-less hinted that Atem put it down on a different side; this is what “turned off” the undesired effect. Speaking of, about Dartz explanation (why his modulator killed batteries but not people): I’ve seen these kinds of electrical-field suppressors in movies a lot of times, but they never seem to explain why they don’t kill people (because people need electrical impulses for their brains and hearts to function, for Pete’s sake!) ... so I really (really!) felt that Atem deserved an explanation and the readers did too ... even if you wouldn’t have noticed if I left it out. Just a nit ... Hope you don’t mind my rather squirrelly justification. :D

_beautiful and brilliant_ : See Chapter 2.

Well, that’s it! I hope you liked it, lame fluff and all. :) [Here was some blather about my plans …]

Anyway, this is it for now! I hope you enjoyed this little story to the end. Meanwhile, my current projects continue; I hope you'll check them out. :)

Until next time, happy reading!

~ DD

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story. As always, kudos and comments are welcome and greatly appreciated. I'd love to know what worked ... and what didn't. ;) And now ... on to the hard stuff: getting my current works finished!


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